The (Vampire) Academy Is
by witwercommasavvy
Summary: Laynie Ozera is starting her junior year at St. Vladimir's Academy harboring a dark fear, one that not even her best friend knows about. Meeting a transfer student who is after both her secrets and her heart causes Laynie to reconsider everything she knows about life and love. Set a few years after the royal election.
1. Submarine

I had always said it was like being inside a submarine.

Water surrounding you on all sides. Glassy little insects being thrown off the windshield in waves. Sounds like the roaring ocean coming from drumming rain on the roof.

"Now, Laynie," my mom said, sitting in the front seat next to my dad. My head immediately snapped forward; always listen. "Be good this year. We don't want to make you stay the summer again. And we want you to get a good guardian."

"Yes, ma'am," I answered her quietly, my gaze slowly returning to the ocean around us. Well, it wasn't actually ocean. It was the boring backwoods of Montana, where my academy hid underneath forest and between mountains. It was logically the best place for a school full of endangered Moroi and dhampirs; reclusive enough that it was easy to see things coming, in a good area to protect.

However, the creators of the academy definitely had valued safety over intrigue.

I hated this school.

My name was Eleyn Ozera, and I belonged to one of twelve royal families. These families all had children who attended my school, all but the Dragomirs, who were the most endangered. Their last remaining member was queen of the Moroi. She wasn't exactly the last one, though. There was about to be another little Dragomir in about five more months.

I really hated this school. It didn't help that I was a product of the Ozeras, which were basically all but loathed by a majority of the Moroi – if it wasn't bad enough that two of our members had willingly turned Strigoi, it had been made worse when another member was proven to have killed the last queen of the Moroi. This had been evened out by Queen Dragomir's marriage to my second cousin or something, Christian Ozera. I didn't really know how I was related to him, but I knew it was relatively close. My parents didn't like to talk about him, because his mom and dad were the Ozeras that put the whole family to shame. Willingly turned Strigoi, the most disgusting and evil immortal vampires to exist. I had met Aunt Moira when she was still human. I had been very, very young, but I had met her. I remembered her eyes.

Not only did it epically suck that I was an Ozera, but I was also very out of it when it came to politics and socializing – which were the two main facets of Moroi life, both in the academy and in the Court. I didn't really like how stuck up all the Moroi were. I was lucky to spend most of my time with some dhampirs who I'd met through practicing in my defense classes, so I got to stay out of the thick of it. _Dhampirs get Moroi into trouble at your age, Laynie_ , came my mom's chastising voice in my head. _Think of that Hathaway and the Queen. Vasilisa is incredibly blessed to make it where she is today. She almost didn't._

I never reminded her that Christian also made it where he was today by hanging out with that same dhampir – married to the queen, about to have a child with her. Taking away some of the shame of the Ozeras. You didn't talk back to a mother who was a royal Moroi.

We were pulling up to the front gate when my mother finally spoke again. "Remember what I said, Laynie. Be good. Behave. Maybe try to get along with some of those royal girls in your class this year."

"Got it," I whispered, catching a glare from my dad's piercing blue eyes in the rearview mirror. "Yes, ma'am," I quickly corrected, and his eyes returned to the guardians coming out to meet us; I knew them well. One of them was one of my instructors, a female guardian named Alberta. She'd been at the school since even the queen had attended, and she had gone to Court for a year or two before coming back to keep teaching. She was the reason I had the skill to give Daniel Dashkov two black eyes and a busted lip last year.

"Ozera, Eleyn," my father said brusquely. He and my mother always seemed to forget that the only reason they were alive was because of the dhampirs protecting them. They had this bizarre disgust for our guardians that made me want to punch them the way I'd punched Daniel Dashkov.

"Go on through," Alberta said, smiling at me through the back window. I smiled back, waving and then hating myself for it. Uh oh.

We made it to the main parking lot before my dad spoke. "Eleyn, how close are you to that instructor?"

"I know her," I said, trying to match his brusqueness. That was another thing I wasn't good at – removing emotions from my tone. That was something all royals were supposed to master eventually. "She teaches some of the defense classes. Not my grade." Would he check? Would he know that I was lying?

"I don't like when you get close to them." He turned all the way around in his seat so his ice blue eyes bored into mine. "This will be the last time I see something like that happen."

"Yes, sir," I said, gritting my teeth and trying not to look like a scared puppy. My dad had that effect on people. I hated that it worked on me, too.

"Have a good year, Eleyn," he said after several tense seconds. "We will see you at Thanksgiving."

"Thank you," I said politely, sliding across the seat and opening the submarine door into the pouring rain. I didn't care if I got super soaked; I just wanted to get away from them.

"Bye, Laynie," I heard my mom call before I slammed the door. I waved at her, not at all surprised by their lack of affection. My parents never told me they loved me.

We had already taken care of my things, so I wasn't surprised to climb the stairs up to my dorm room and find my trunk at the end of my bed. My roommate, and best friend, Alex Conta, was already unpacking. Like me, she spent her summers at home with her family.

"What up, Laynie," she said, tugging the corner of her fitted sheet onto the back of her mattress and falling stomach-first onto the bed. She groaned into the pillow. "This year is gunna suck."

"We're juniors, Alex," I said, opening my trunk. On top of my clothes was a sealed letter, my name scrawled on the top in what I knew was my dad's handwriting, and I felt bile rise in my throat, whipping the letter under my bed. I had no idea what it might say, but I was sure I didn't want to read it. "What time is it? When is class?"

"There aren't any classes today, dumbass," she said, still into her pillow.

"No, I heard that someone is running a defense class to warm up for the first day," I said, my eagerness audible to even me. "Aren't you going?"

"Hell no." Her voice, still muffled, made me roll my eyes, and I grabbed the first workout clothes I could find out of my suitcase, yanking off my blouse and untangling the tank top.

"Yo, Laynie," Alex's soft voice said from her bed, no longer muffled in her pillow; I jumped and tried to back up, hitting my ankle on my trunk and falling ungracefully to the floor. I covered myself as best as I could with the tank top until I could pull it over my head, knowing exactly what she'd seen.

"Are those bruises?" she asked, getting up and coming toward me. I jumped back again, crabwalking away from her, one arm over my stomach where I knew hid the black and blue and purple and green marks under my skin. "What did you do?"

"Stop," I ordered her, not even bothering to think of an excuse. "Stop. You made me hurt my ankle, bitch."

"Sorry," she said, her eyes softening behind her heavy black eyeliner. "You need help?"

"No," I said, feeling guilty for snapping at her.

"Is that why you always try to stay for the summer?" she asked.

"Don't worry about it, Alex." I grabbed onto my trunk and stood up, testing my ankle. It might bruise, but it was good to practice on. "I'm gunna find that class."

"Finish changing, you can't go in khakis," she said, her face still fearful and apologetic. "I'll go ask the dorm matron if she knows anything." She left the room, nearly closing her ass-length black hair in the door behind her. She should be the Ozera, not me.

I took a few steps and locked the door where she had left, examining myself in the floor-length mirror that hung on the back of it. I didn't really look like an Ozera. I had the eyes, the piercing ice blue that always reminded me of my father; I had the pale skin. I didn't have the black hair, though. My hair was wavy and brown, almost like Rose Hathaway's except lighter, hanging down to my elbows. I had freckles, too. Neither of my parents had freckles. Not a lot of Moroi in general had freckles, since you got them from the sun and we couldn't be in the sun very long. I did a lot of late-night training – and by late night, that meant during the day, since vampire schedules were flipped – and therefore had my share of sun kisses on my cheeks and nose. Typical tall and lanky Moroi build, but with a little bigger boobs. Not really any butt.

I lifted up the tank top, seeing the bruises that Alex had seen. I saw his piercing eyes in the mirror, reflected in my own, and quickly opened the door so I couldn't see my reflection anymore. I could feel my fingers shaking.

Alex came back in a few minutes, and by then I was unpacking, fully changed into my workout clothes which I had put on with the door wide open. I would rather someone else see me changing than to have to see those eyes in the mirror.

"She says it's starting at sunrise, but that we still have to be back by curfew," she said, kneeling in front of her own stuff and digging for her change of yoga pants.

"That's like an hour of practice!" I groaned, flipping my hair over and starting to twist it into a bun. "We've got this, we'll be fine."

"We gotta go, though," she said, tearing off her own clothes and clumsily hopping into the new ones. "It's across the quad."

"Mother," I hissed, falling back to the floor and putting on my tennis shoes. "You ready?" I asked when I finished, standing up hastily.

"We out," she said, throwing the dorm key around her neck and starting toward the door. I slid out of it first, not wanting there to be any chance I'd see the mirror.

—

"Lucky for you eager beavers," Guardian Kova was saying, "we have a little treat for you guys today. Just to reward you for your commitment, I called for some special guests."

Guardian Kova was a newer guardian for the school, having been recruited after the election, and I liked him. He was okay. A little old, but a good teacher. I had a feeling all eyes were glued on him, however, as he had spoken – special guests? Who would it be? Dimitri Belikov? Rose Hathaway? Eddie Castile? Maybe even Mia Rinaldi?

We waited and waited, and I could feel the humidity turning into heat as we wasted time sitting on the grass. We should have been fighting already. Half of me wanted to see the guests, and the other half wanted to kick someone's ass. It had been all summer.

Someone with curly brown hair walked out of a doorway toward where we were gathered on the ground, and I recognized him immediately – Mikhail Tanner. Famous for so many reasons, including his Strigoi hunt when the woman he loved had turned Strigoi. I felt a very strong bond with people who had experienced what I had – loved ones going dark. We would always be stigmatized, even though it had obviously been all but our choice.

"Hey, guys," he said, and I could tell by his discomfort that he had never gotten used to a spotlight. "Um, well, there's not much I could say, but I am gunna be running through some moves with you and all that stuff. I hope you learn a lot and I hope everyone has a great year."

There was murmured thanks and excitement, and then we all got to our feet as Mikhail started in on the basics, letting us warm up and stretch. He made us run around the track, and I was reminded of the stories I'd heard about when Belikov had been first training Hathaway. Always running. It had paid off for her many times.

Alex and I were one of the only Moroi there, but we were friends with a lot of the dhampirs anyway, so we made it a race. Our long legs fought with their stamina and muscles, and the instructors caught on quickly; Kova was cheering for us as I leapt over the end of the final lap, collapsing on the wet grass. Alex fell next to me, and four or five dhampirs dogpiled next to us, laughter cascading from where we all lay. I slowed my breathing and sat up, squinting at the pink and orange sky. There could only be thirty minutes left of practice.

"Alright, up, up," Kova called, and we all obeyed, getting into position in front of our instructors. Alex and I were sparring partners first, and I noticed her hesitation to hit me anywhere in my midsection; that pissed me off, and I went twice as hard, pinning her in the first twenty seconds.

"Wow, Ozera," Mikhail said, coming over as I helped Alex up. He glanced at Kova. "Give her a dhampir."

"We separate them like this so it's fair," he said.

"Give her a dhampir," Mikhail repeated, nodding toward a group of dhampir boys who were all a lot larger than me muscle-wise. I doubted I could beat any of them.

"If you say so," Kova said, bitterness in his voice at having his rule overthrown. "Larkin, you got Ozera."

Larkin stepped forward, a massive senior who I knew was going to be part of the royal guard when he graduated, and grinned down at me. He, a dhampir, was grinning _down_ at a Moroi. "This should be fun."

"Suck my ass," I hissed at him, backing up and dropping into proper form. Alex moved away, and I realized no one else was planning on practicing. They were all going to watch.

It took several seconds for either of us to even make a move. We just circled each other, scanning each other's movements. Finally, he feinted, and I fell for it – first mess-up, too eager. We both went left and then he dodged right, catching me in the stomach and knocking my breath out of me for a few short seconds. I pretended it affected me more than it had, and then got him from underneath, throwing in three sharp hits to his stomach. It was then that I saw his eyes.

Lit up in the growing sunlight, the gray of them turned icy blue – and I snapped.

—

"Laynie! _Laynie_!" Alex's scream shook me, and I froze, immediately feeling pain. Everywhere.

Mostly from my hands. I looked down at them and saw blood, wondering why I'd beat up a rock when it started coming back to me. I was pinned to the wet grass by both Kova and Mikhail, Alex holding down my legs and trying to keep my face still. I shook free of her hands, blinking rapidly.

"I don't know what happened," I said, squinting. There was too much sunlight.

And there were too many voices. I glanced to the side, past one of the men holding me down, and saw the group of dhampir boys carrying Larkin, his face a bloody mess, his shirt torn. He was favoring an ankle, and the boys were supporting his weight, bringing him toward the infirmary. One of them looked back at me, and there was genuine fear in his eyes.

"I don't know what happened," I repeated, my voice harsh in my throat. "I don't know what happened."

"We should take her to Dr. Olendzki," Alex said. "She's never been like this before."

"No, she needs to go to the headmistress's office," Kova said. "That was unnecessary."

"What happened," I asked, feeling hot tears rolling down my temples into my hair. "Alex, Alex, what happened?"

Mikhail was the only one who looked calm and understanding. It was like he had seen me before, seen this moment. "She shouldn't be punished. I know what happened." I rifled through my mind to figure out what he meant, remembering what I knew about him – he was married to an ex-Strigoi. He probably had seen her go crazy plenty of times before. Maybe he understood that that was what had happened to me.

"Are you crazy?!" Kova yelled, and I flinched into Mikhail, feeling my fingers shaking again. Mikhail had brown eyes. I stared up at them. _He's not here. He's not here._

"Don't shout," Mikhail said, and without warning he swept me up. "I'm taking her to the infirmary and then she's going back to her dorm. She can't miss the first day of classes tomorrow."

"Listen, just because—"

Mikhail silenced him with a look, shaking his head. I clung to him, searching for his eyes. "Kova, if you have a problem, speak with the headmistress. I will be calling the queen as soon as I get a chance to ensure Eleyn Ozera has not even a speck of this on her record."

Kova's gray brows pulled together but he remained silent, and I closed my eyes, feeling more tears on my cheeks. What was wrong with me?

"M-Mikhail," I whispered to him as he started walking. "Can you make sure my dad doesn't find out about this?"

He looked down at me, those soft brown eyes understanding and serene. They calmed my heart more than I could have hoped. "Absolutely."


	2. Fire

I was patched up quickly, my only injuries on my knuckles, and carted back to my dorm with hardly any words from anyone. By carted, I just meant escorted by Kova and Mikhail.

"Guardian Kova, go back and check on the dhampir boy," Mikhail said after a few silent seconds of walking. His words surprised me – wasn't he afraid to be alone with me? Afraid I'd go crazy again?

Of course, he had brown eyes. Nothing would happen to me.

Kova looked apprehensive, but a look from Mikhail spun him around. I squinted through the sunlight at his incredibly perfect posture, waiting for him to disappear into the infirmary doors.

"I really don't know what happened," I told Mikhail quietly, staring at my Converse on the sidewalk. "Kova won't tell my dad, will he?"

"No one besides us will know this even occurred," he assured me. "Make sure your friend Alexandria doesn't speak of this, either."

"She would never," I replied. "She…understands."

"That's comforting. Good that you have someone." He didn't speak for a few minutes. "You should apologize to her, though."

"Did I hurt her?"

"Mildly. She has some burning where she was touching you. Singed through her sweatpants."

"Are you serious?" I asked, coming to a stop. "I hurt my best friend?"

"Fire is a volatile element to specialize in. You weren't in the right state of mind."

"You should let them lock me up," I said, feeling tears brimming in my eyes. "You should let them put me away."

"Should I let them tell your father?"

I froze. My fingers shook.

"Eleyn," he said quietly, stepping toward me. I jumped backward, ducking down into defensive position quickly. He stopped, holding his hands up. "Laynie. You're safe here, you know that, right?"

"I'm not safe anywhere."

"Does your family have a guardian?"

"We're Ozeras." That answered that question.

"Still, the queen should have supplied you with at least one. She's trying very hard, Lissa is."

"My dad – he doesn't want one." I straightened up slowly. "He has fire too. My mom has air. They surprisingly agree with the defensive magic stance, so they have instructors teaching them. But my dad doesn't like dhampirs."

"Why not?"

"Because he's…he doesn't like them. He doesn't like anyone."

There was understanding in Mikhail's eyes, like he could see right into my brain and read my thoughts. See the nightmares I was seeing, always reliving. "You're safe here, Laynie. Do you see what you did to that boy? You have to admit, you're a badass."

I laughed, but I sounded hysterical. My muddled thoughts were getting even more exhausted by the sunlight, and he seemed to realize it in that moment, moving toward me quickly and putting his arm around my waist. "Let's get you inside," he said. "I promise, I promise you that you will be okay."

"Thanks," I murmured; it was all I could say. I could keep denying it. I could keep saying I wasn't safe anywhere. But that wouldn't change Mikhail's mind. It would only make him understand me more. I didn't like that – I didn't like people trying to see inside my head. It made me feel naked.

"He wrote me a letter," I said as we climbed the stairs of the dorm building. The matron had given us a weird look, but anyone could see that Mikhail was a guardian; she didn't ask any questions. "He put it in my trunk."

"What did it say?"

"I didn't read it." Why was I telling him this? I didn't know him. I'd never even met him before.

We made it to my dorm, and he sighed, taking time to think over his words before he spoke. "I can take it, if you don't want it."

"I—" Why was he offering this? It was in his nature, I realized. In everything he'd been taught. Protect the Moroi. They come first. "You don't have to. I specialize in fire, remember?"

"Don't burn any buildings down," he said, smiling at me. "Everything will be okay, Eleyn. Get some sleep."

"Thanks," I said. He couldn't know for sure whether I would be safe or not, but it was a bit comforting all the same – that is, until I walked into my dorm room. Alex had passed out on top of her covers, burned sweatpants still covering her long, pale legs. She had a bandage on her right forearm, but she otherwise looked mostly unharmed. Just tired.

She was too at peace for me to bother her. I grabbed a towel and some pajamas to change into, taking my time under the hot water of the shower to ease my sore muscles. I changed the bandages on my knuckles the way Dr. Olendzki had shown me, and I brushed the knots out of my wet hair without looking in the mirror. _Everything will be okay, Eleyn_ , I reminded myself.

—

"I heard she beat up Guardian Kova."

"Melanie told me she beat up four dhampirs at once."

"Mars Zeklos said she set them on fire."

The whispers were all around me at breakfast, hundreds of pairs of eyes following me and Alex as we crossed the cafeteria towards the feeders. I ignored them, very used to gossip about me or my family. Alex, however, wasn't so used to it.

"They're all looking at us," she said, grimacing at the line of students waiting for breakfast. They were serving sausage omelets, and Alex was a vegan. That is, except for the blood she drank. "Why?"

"Because they're nosey bitches," I replied immediately. "Not a big deal."

But to her, it was, and my stomach sunk in guilt; she had the eyes on her because of me. As a royal, she was relatively used to the spotlight. Not this kind, however.

"Hey Conta, is it true that you and Ozera set Larkin and those other dhampir boys on fire at practice last night?"

I turned and saw Mars Zeklos standing behind us in the feeder line, crossing his arms smugly. His friends were around him, as if they afforded him some kind of protection.

Not from me.

I focused on the sleeve of his shirt, keeping a smile on my face. I felt the magic well up in me, and as I blinked his arm lit up. He screamed like a girl, swatting at the fire that began to cover his whole shirt. Alex's hand on my arm shook my focus, and I glanced away, knowing the fire would disappear from his totally unharmed Henley.

"Stop, Laynie," she pleaded. She didn't like the attention at all. That was why we got along so well. And here I was, calling a thousand more eyes to us like I wanted them.

"See, told you she was a crazy bitch," Mars told one of his friends, and a bunch of them laughed. I turned and ignored them for Alex's sake, letting her go ahead of me in the feeder line.

After our feeders, we found our friends at their table; three dhampirs whom we'd known since elementary school. There was Crystal Conta, Alex's like fourth cousin or something; Jeremy Rodriguez, whose mom had told no one the identity of his allegedly royal father; and Matt Cadet, the only person who hated the spotlight more than me and Alex. He liked to stay in the median of things, the top of the bell curve: Bs and Cs in his classes, probably the tenth best in his guardian classes, very quiet in general. I admired him. I wished it was that easy for me to keep out of things. Not with a last name like Ozera, though.

"Back to another year of hell," Jeremy said, downing half a water bottle. His eyes were tired, dark brown and lined with long black eyelashes. "You know what I did this summer? Not shit."

"Lucky," Alex said. "My family dragged me to Court with them."

Crystal groaned. "I want to see Court. I want to work there when we graduate."

"Are you kidding? Talk about boring as shit," Jeremy laughed. "You wanna follow around royals with sticks up their asses all the time?"

"You know those royals are the reason you're alive," Crystal snapped. "Shut your mouth."

A finger on my shoulder made me jump, and I whipped around, my magic brimming in my stomach. But instead of Mars or another of his friends, it was a guardian, one I didn't recognize. He was in all black, looking perfectly respectable; still, I couldn't shake the fear that followed the magic into my nerves.

The whispers around us grew. "Can you come with me, Miss Ozera?" the guardian asked, politeness for the royal he was speaking to emanating from his words. I nodded and stood, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

"See you in first period, Alex," I said, and she nodded, her eyes wide.

We left the cafeteria with everyone staring, and outside wasn't any different; every student that passed us was silently questioning this strange guardian, or wondering if I'd really set Larkin Keim on fire. I didn't care, and neither did my escort. He was obviously on a mission.

We turned toward the building where the headmistress's office was, but instead of going there we went into a conference room, which I saw was filled with more guardians. Someone turned around, and I noticed his eyes immediately, then his black hair. I stopped short, clenching my fists to hide my shaking fingers.

"Hello, Eleyn," he said, smiling at me. The eyes, the eyes. My father's eyes.

"H-Hello, Your Highness," I stuttered, feeling like I was going to puke.

He laughed. "Call me Christian."

I didn't speak.

"So I heard about what happened yesterday. Mikhail told me when he got back, late last night."

"Why did he tell you?" I asked, trying to remember how to breathe. I wished my mom was with me. _In, out, Laynie. In, out, just like the waves._

"Because he saw some of me in you, I suppose," Christian said, laughing again. "Setting Zeklos on fire this morning, too. Again, something I actually did when I was in school."

"I…" Was I in trouble? What was going on?

"No, you're not getting expelled," he said, smiling. He would be so beautiful, if not for the eyes. I couldn't look at them. "Quite the opposite, in fact."

"What does that mean?" The opposite of expelled? By Christian Ozera, the queen's husband?

"We're going to put you in some different defense classes. You'll still be with the other Moroi when you're learning the book stuff, and of course the magic. But instead of the Moroi physical defense class you have and your other elective, we'll be putting you in two of the dhampir defense trainings."

"Why?" I asked, wrinkling my brow. "Am I going to be a guardian?"

"No," he said, laughing again. "Mikhail was simply impressed by your abilities, that's all. So was Rose. She wanted to come meet you."

I didn't know what to say again.

"Don't worry, I promise this is a good thing," he said. More promises. "You will just get more in-depth physical training. You're outpacing the students in your current classes, so we're helping with that."

"Why, though?" I asked. Why me? Why now? Why, right after I beat the crap out of some kid in during a psychotic episode?

"Because you need to protect yourself," he said, his terrifying eyes sparking with some secret knowledge he had. I remembered Mikhail's perfect understanding of me, how he had seemed to know what I was so afraid of without me saying it specifically. Perhaps he had relayed this information to Christian.

"Well – thank you, I think," I said. "My father won't be happy to know that I'm in a class with dhampirs, though. He doesn't like them."

"Your father knows nothing except that you've been moved to classes which support your exceptional abilities," Christian said, a calm smile on his face. "In fact, he seemed rather proud on the phone."

"Did you ever meet him?" I asked, swallowing the knot in my throat. Christian was family, after all. "I remember…" How could I say I remembered his mom?

"Your father is my uncle," Christian said. I had a feeling he was telling me this so I could know for sure how closely related we were. "He's my dad's half-brother. That makes us what, first cousins? I even remember meeting you once. I think you were a toddler."

"I only remember Aunt Moira," I said slowly. He nodded. Thankfully, he didn't look upset.

"Well, sorry to cut this so short, but I can't stay long. I just wanted to deliver the news to you myself. Since we're family and all." Something flashed in Christian's smile that reminded me of some of the things I'd heard about him, like how he was supposedly super sarcastic. I knew I should have felt close to him, grateful that he'd come all this way – but I saw pale blue eyes in the mirror every day. In fact, I vigorously avoided seeing any eyes like that. And here they were, looking right at me in a face I couldn't just turn away from.

"Thank you very much," I said automatically, swallowing another nervous knot in my throat. "Will I get my new schedule?"

"It should be waiting for you at the front desk," he said, still smiling. He stepped forward and shook my hand. "Great to see you again, Laynie."

"You too, Christian," I said, finding myself smiling. "Did you really set someone on fire?"

"Oh, definitely," he said, grinning. "Lots of Strigoi, too."

"Wow," I breathed. I'd never even seen a Strigoi. Setting one on fire? I couldn't imagine that.

Then again, Strigoi eyes were red-rimmed. I could probably take on any eyes that weren't pale, icy blue.

—

Since our school had started integrating defense into the curriculum for Moroi, a lot of the classes which had been separate for the novices and Moroi were now mixed. Except for the magic – that and the bodyguard defense, of course; my first class was the same as my original schedule, Defensive Magic for Fire Specialists. Alex specialized in earth, so she wasn't in this class with me. In fact, none of my friends were. I was with a lot of annoying royals.

Second, still the same. As were my third and fourth classes; I was with Moroi or both Moroi and the novice guardians for all of them. After lunch, however, came the differences.

My first class after lunch was simple enough. It was supposed to be Weight Training and Conditioning, but that class was only Moroi. The novice guardians could handle a lot more than Moroi could, weight-wise and combat-wise. Plus, they were taught different fighting techniques; the dhampirs needed to learn how to fight and protect someone else. We were learning to fight simply to protect ourselves.

This new class was one of the basic defense classes that all the novices, but none of the Moroi, had to take. The dhampirs were all very confused to see me in there with them – that is, except for my friends. Jeremy and Matt were in this class with me, and I was grateful for the familiar faces.

When I walked in the gym doors, all eyes were on me. I was used to it. I walked up to the instructor, Guardian Avilov, and showed him my schedule. He nodded, welcoming me with a smile and assigning Jeremy to be my partner for the day. Someone had apparently warned him that I was coming.

The other students hadn't had the same warning. "Why is there a Moroi in here?" "Did someone mess up her schedule? She should go to the headmistress and find out what went wrong." "I'll give her five minutes before she's out."

Of course, I had to prove myself to them. Jeremy was a lot stronger than me, but I was lighter, and used that to my advantage. We were about the same height, and he was a tough match. He pinned me first.

I began to feel the difference in our abilities very quickly; his hits _hurt_. I couldn't say that, of course, but I was sure that I would have more bruises than I'd had before I came in. I knew people would be watching us, but I ignored them, focusing on trying to actually beat Jeremy. Part of me knew I wouldn't. Part of me knew this was all a mistake, something that would probably get switched back to normal in no time. There was no way Christian freaking Ozera had come all the way to Montana from Pennsylvania just to tell me that I was getting thrown in with novices. All of this, my whole life, was just a big mistake. I was about to wake up in an insane asylum.

And that was even more obvious when, after about five minutes, I knocked Jeremy Rodriguez to the mat.

There was a chorus of gasps as we wrestled, each of us trying to gain hold on the other, but finally I pictured the eyes, the eyes in my own face and my father's face and Christian's face. The Ozera eyes. And with that spark of fear to lead me, I had my elbow on Jeremy's neck and my fist thumped loudly on his heart.

"Staked," I said, grinning. "I win, bitch."

He laughed, both of us breathless, and I dropped my hold on him, surprised when his arms reached around me and gave me a hug. It was awkward, since my face was basically in the blue mat above his shoulder, but I didn't care. Finally, something good had happened.

"Welcome to the club, Ozera," he said, and then he let me go, both of us standing. Avilov clapped a couple times, and a few of the other novices clapped too. Dhampirs were altogether more accepting than Moroi, and I felt confident that they would all clap for me eventually.


	3. Freckles

After that class let out, I went to another similar dhampir defense class, and then one more normal one. The last one of the day was the third one that had been changed, and it would make my third physical defense training for the day. I was either about to be incredibly exhausted all the time, or start building some crazy stamina and muscle.

It began and ended as the other one had – confused dhampirs, whispers of confusion and doubt. Many of the students were the same as there had been in the other class, and they warned the newbies about my "skills." I didn't really think I had skills. I was just good at beating people up.

"Now, it's definitely abnormal for a Moroi to be able to take on a dhampir the way you have been," Alberta told me as the last bell rang. Students began filtering out of the gym into the dim grounds, but I stayed behind, wanting to just sit and rest in peace for a second. Plus, I knew as soon as I hit the sidewalk outside that my weirdness level for the other students would have increased exponentially. "Do you work out or practice at home?"

"Sometimes," I said, shrugging. "My dad likes to focus more on the elemental aspect of defensive practice. When I practice the physical stuff, it's usually a crappy punching bag or something."

She laughed. "Well, I'm very impressed, Eleyn. I'm hoping this year is better than last."

I knew it wasn't supposed to be insulting, but my heart dropped into my stomach as she walked away. She had faith in me. My favorite instructor had faith in me to be a good student, but I just couldn't. How could I behave, and end up going home all summer like the normal students? I couldn't spend a whole summer at that house, with those eyes staring me down every day. I would break.

I didn't feel the weight of my exhaustion until I was upstairs in my room. I collapsed on my bed and buried my face in my pillow, every part of my body sore. I heard the door open and close as Alex came back from her last class, but she didn't speak. Probably assumed I was sleeping.

I ended up actually falling asleep, waking up in the middle of the night with a jolt. I'd been having a nightmare, as usual. Sitting up slowly, I gathered my things for a shower and made my way to the bathroom.

Steam covered the mirrors as I dried off, which I was grateful for; I didn't have to avoid my reflection as fully as I usually did. I combed through my hair with my fingers and dressed slowly, noticing across the room that someone hadn't pulled the shade down fully for the bathroom. Sunlight was filtering in, spilling over the windowsill onto the tiled floor.

I grabbed the end of the shade and yanked, trying to get it to stay down, but it shot back up to the top of the window, far above where I was able to reach. "Shit," I hissed, putting one sore knee on the sill and trying to balance my wobbly limbs well enough to stand on it. My fingers brushed against the hook, and I grabbed hold of it, my Moroi eyes catching a glimpse of movement across the grounds.

I stood very still, although my entire body was behind the glass anyway; I squinted through the sunlight, trying to figure out what was going on. A car had come through the gate, traveling up the pathway to the main office smoothly. It came to a stop, and two guardians climbed out of the front seat, each opening one of the back doors. The passengers were a man and a woman, and they were Moroi; wearing dark sunglasses, jackets, and the woman was wearing a scarf around her head. All to avoid the sunlight, I guessed.

There was another passenger who climbed out after them. He was their same height, but much younger-looking, and far less afraid of the sunlight. He wasn't even wearing sunglasses. I wished he was close enough that I could analyze small details; the color of his eyes, his hair, his teeth. But he didn't even stay still for very long, following the guardians and who I assumed were his parents into the front office building. My curiosity threatened to suffocate me – who were they? What were they doing here? And why in the middle of the night?

 _Oh, whatever_ , I thought. I was no stranger to trouble. Who cared about breaking curfew?

I went back to my dorm and laced up my shoes, opening my window carefully. Alex didn't stir, thank goodness, and I frowned at the heat. I was wearing pajama shorts and a tank top, which would fight against overheating. However, it wouldn't protect me from the sun. I didn't have much time.

I put my legs out of my window and scanned for a safe place to put them; the closest ledge was a longer distance down than I could probably reach easily, but I risked it, turning around and locking my fingers on the windowsill. I kicked around until my tippytoes found the ledge and I let go of the sill carefully.

The ground was still a ways away. I turned around so my back was against the wall and closed my eyes, taking a deep breath and then jumping.

I landed feet first and then fell onto my hands and knees, but I could definitely have hurt myself a lot worse. I stayed on the edge of the building and started jogging, wanting to stay out of any main areas. I hugged three more buildings until I made it to the office, and by then the strangers were coming out the front door. If they really were Moroi, they might be able to hear me; I froze in place, back against the wall, head turned just slightly so one of my eyes could see the front drive.

"Don't worry. St. Vladimir's Academy has a history of dealing with complicated students. We'll take good care of your son." I recognized Alberta's voice. Another good reason to stay hidden. I didn't want to disappoint her before the second day of school had even started.

"That is good to hear," said a male voice with a thick accent; at the academy, we came from all kinds of places, especially in Europe. This accent wasn't one I recognized immediately.

"You don't have to talk about me like I'm not here." A younger voice, no accent; this must be the boy who wasn't afraid of the sun. Speaking of, a thin layer of sweat was sticking my tank top to me. I needed to get inside soon.

There were footsteps, and then I could see them, the adults who were fully covered with their backs to me. I was intrigued by the unknown accent, but didn't risk revealing my hiding place. "Thank you very much, Guardian Petrov. We appreciate the kindness." This must be the woman. She sounded sweet, and had less accent than her husband.

"It's my pleasure. And my honor. It's been a long time since we've seen such full-blooded Dashkovs."

I froze, my eyes fluttering closed. Dashkov. Another rejected royal family.

"We don't come out of hiding easily," the woman joked, and Alberta's laugh sounded almost too friendly. There was some scattered small-talk and a weepy goodbye from the woman to her son, and a very brusque father-son embrace which made me shiver thinking of my father. Then they climbed back into the car with their guardians, and the car pulled away, leaving Alberta with the new boy.

"Don't let the kindness fool you," she said as they turned to head back into the building. "We're strict here at St. Vlad's. Isn't that right, Ozera?"

I froze. How had she known I was here?

I stayed very still, hoping that maybe one of my relatives had gotten caught sneaking around in conveniently the same place and at the same time I was sneaking, but the silence forced me forward. I stepped out of the bushes to where Alberta stood waiting, her face stern and her arms crossed.

"Why are you out in the sun? Look at you," she said, her face softening. She came forward to take my arm, and I realized just how much it had taken out of me as I stumbled forward at her touch. "You're in no shape to be out of bed, especially at night. Let's go." She started back toward the front door of the building, and I yanked away from her, almost falling.

"Don't tell my dad," I begged, my words slurring. Being as still as I had had to be in my hiding place, I hadn't been able to feel the sun draining me until I was mobile. I doubted I could beat a first grader right now in a fight, let alone a dhampir like Larkin or Jeremy. "Alberta, don't tell him."

"We know, Eleyn," she said, reaching out for me again. "We have orders from Court to keep things like this from your family. Not sure how you managed that, but you'll be punished all the same."

"Eleyn?" came the boy's voice, and I turned to look at him, only now remembering how curious I'd been about who he was and what he looked like. Immediately, the first thing I saw were the eyes, the Dashkov eyes – emerald green, like leaves on a tree in spring. His lashes were light brown and long, matching the auburn-tinged shade of his hair. His skin was tan, his nose freckled. Hadn't I just been thinking that Moroi never had freckles?

Was he Moroi? I stopped being able to tell; he was tall, but somewhat built, his skin not too pale but not too dark. "Are you even Moroi?" I asked him. Maybe that's why he was okay in the sun.

He laughed. "Eleyn is kind of an old lady name, isn't it?"

"Dashkov is kind of a murderer, isn't he?"

"Could say the same for Ozera, bitch."

I moved to flip him off but Alberta snatched my wrist out of the air. "Laynie, you are cutting it close. Get inside."

"Ooh, Laynie is cute," the boy mocked, and I yanked my wrist free from Alberta's hold, swinging back to punch new boy in the face with everything I had. _I want to break that freckly nose,_ I thought to myself, really not in the mood for someone messing with me.

Before Alberta could stop me, new boy swung out, catching my arm and yanking me toward him. He stared right down into my face with those endless green eyes, his jaw tight. "Don't want to do that," he said slowly. "I bite."

"Me too," I growled, fighting against him; I didn't even have the energy to question what Alberta was doing amidst all of this. I summoned my magic and shoved it through my skin to burn him. With a hiss, he let go of me, his beautiful face angry. He was _really_ beautiful, I noticed.

In a flash, there were more guardians around us, Alberta speaking quickly into a walkie talkie. My fear returned. No matter how bad things got, my dad couldn't know.

Two guardians each grabbed me and new boy, and they pulled me toward my dorm building. I didn't know if the stranger had been assigned a dorm yet, but he was staring daggers in my direction, not even fighting his guardian escorts. I stared back and brought my eyes down to his expensive shirt, lighting it on fire for real this time. Despite my fear of getting in trouble, I certainly had very little self-control.

I didn't get to see what happened after that; the magic and sunlight combined were too much for me. I passed out in the guardian's arms, the anger and surprise on new boy's face the last thing in my line of sight before everything was black.

—

The next morning was hell. I woke up to a message from Alberta taped to the mirror on the back of my door; I was to be confined to my room for anything except class and meals. Every time I got in trouble like this, I thought back to everything I'd heard about Rose Hathaway. She had gotten away with so much shit when she was in school. I'd be fine.

Not only was the impending solitary confinement pretty hellish in itself, but I was also more sore than I had ever been in my life. The sunlight, the three trainings, and the wrestling with guardians was kicking my ass. I stumbled out of bed and groaned in pain as I got dressed, Alex opening the door after her shower looking incredulous.

"Who's banging in here?"

"Just my skull," I said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Did you see the note?"

"Yeah, you snuck out?" she asked, grinning. "You're an idiot, Laynie, but I gotta say, you have spark."

"Get it?" I asked, holding up my hand and lighting my fingertips on fire as a joke. She laughed again, but the magic made my head pound even worse. Today was going to suck.

"There's a new student here," I remembered, parting my hair and starting to braid it to the side. "He's a Dashkov. Totally gorgeous. Huge dick."

Her eyes widened.

"Oh my god, not like that," I said, laughing and then cutting off when my headache shot into my eyes. "He _is_ a huge dick. Major asshole. I talked to him for like five seconds, and he made jokes about my family being murderers, my name being that of an old woman, and something else that I don't remember because I feel like I'm gunna puke. I almost punched him in the face and definitely set him on fire, though."

"Laynie!" she said, dropping her shoe right before she put it on. "You're going to get expelled!"

"Christian Ozera came here just to see me yesterday," I told her, surprised at the pride I was feeling through that statement. "He told me that he was putting me in all those new classes because I was exceptional or something. He won't let them expel me. Plus, he set people on fire when he was in school."

"Laynie. Chill the hell out. It's the second day of school."

"He said I had an old lady name, Alex."

She laughed. "Of all the things to be offended by."

I got dressed for school, putting on a floral crop top and high-waisted jeans, and started out the door with Alex next to me. We went to our feeders together at breakfast as usual and then sat with Jeremy and Matt. Crystal was at a different table, talking to other friends.

"Did you guys hear about new boy yet?" Jeremy asked, stabbing a fork into his stack of pancakes. "Word on the street is he's a Voda."

"He's a Dashkov," I said, rolling my eyes. How the hell did gossip spread so fast around here? "I met him last night. Snuck out to see who the hell he was, actually."

"He's from Bosnia," Matt said, his eyes scanning the room. A true novice guardian. "That's what I've heard, anyway."

"Who's he dorming with?" I asked.

"No one. He has his own room because he's a fuck-up," Jeremy answered with a mouth full of food. "They brought him into our dorm last night, woke a bunch of us up. That's how everyone knows."

So he was a dhampir. "What do you mean, fuck-up?" Alex asked.

"He got into a bunch of trouble at his old school. Kind of like our darling Laynie here, but a bit worse I'm guessing. Since they made him transfer and all."

"You don't even know if half this shit is true," I said, rolling my eyes again. "Who cares, anyway? He's an asswipe."

"You just think that because you are such a friendly and outgoing person, Laynie love," Jeremy joked, and Matt chuckled. "Give him the rest of the day. Then everyone will know everything there is to know about Stranger Dashkov."

"What's his name?" I asked, and on cue the cafeteria doors opened, and the new boy strolled in, a group of five giggling Moroi girls following after him quite obviously. I watched him, not afraid to meet his eyes, and as if he sensed my gaze, he turned and looked right at me. I winked and lit up the corner of his sleeve, not letting it touch the fabric of course, and the magic sent shockwaves of pain down the back of my skull.

I didn't break my gaze. He winked back at me and then continued walking; I waited for him to retaliate, some form of magical combat in return, but then I remembered he was a dhampir. It seemed the only magic in our war would come from my side.

That wasn't fair. _No torturing the boy with magic anymore, Laynie_ , I told myself. _Not until you know him better, at least._

I didn't want to know him better, though. He was a jerk. What kind of person tried to insult someone they were just seeing for the first time? Someone they hadn't even met or been introduced to?

The gossip about new boy was overwhelming for the rest of breakfast, and finally we broke for classes. Of course new boy wasn't in my first class, or any of the other three before lunch. I was incredibly grateful for that. It was annoying enough having to get prepared and survive in these classes on my own, with only one or two friends in each. It would suck dealing with an obvious jerk.

The voices in the cafeteria seemed to be even louder than usual as I walked in, Jeremy on my left. He ducked into the lunch line quickly, having worked up an appetite in weight training, but I lingered at the end of the line, scanning.

"Looking for someone in particular?" a voice behind me asked, and I spun around and sent a punch straight toward the stranger's stomach out of surprise; new boy caught my wrist again, his fingers warm. "You're a violent little thing, aren't you?"

"You can fuck right off," I said, heating up my skin under his fingers again, and he let go slower than he had the first time, smirking down at me.

"Why do you always have to use magic? Aren't you fiery enough as a person?"

"I think your jokes last night were better than they are today."

"I'm hurt," he said, putting his hand on his heart. "I'll try harder next time."

"No, no next time," I growled, backing up a step. He was standing too close to me. "Leave me alone. You're a dick."

"What a creative and hurtful insult," he scoffed. "Sorry, Laynie."

I flipped him off and turned to follow Jeremy into the lunch line, ducking around some students so he couldn't follow me.

"Nice to meet you, by the way!" he called after me, smirking again. "My name's Lexan!"

 _What kind of name is Lexan?_ I thought, gritting my teeth. What a bizarre dude. Maybe it was a Bosnian thing.


	4. Eyes

"Did you see the way they were talking? I think they know each other."

"It would make sense. Two weirdos."

"He's not a weirdo. He's kind of hot."

"Kind of? Like, super hot. But he got transferred here for a reason. Doubt it's a good one."

I listened intently to the gossip as I walked to class after gym, trying to find out more about "Lexan." That couldn't be his real name. Lexan? What could that be short for? Alexander, probably. I didn't know for sure, and I was also starting to hate myself for being as curious as I was. I had no business wondering about him. He was a jerk, and bad news.

 _Aren't you bad news too?_

"Laynie," Alberta called as I walked into the gym. "I just spoke to Guardian Kova. Your sentence is lifted, sort of."

"Sort of?" I asked, my eyes widening. No house arrest?

"You're still stuck in your room. What you did last night was very irresponsible," she said, her stern instructor face on. "But you are allowed to leave your room early in the morning, for one purpose."

"What purpose?" I asked, insanely curious now.

"Homework. Kova says you need to run more."

"More?" Hadn't I beat pretty much all the dhampirs during practice?

"More. You can run quickly, for sure. But running long distances without collapsing is something you should be able to do. We want to make you the best you can be, Laynie." She smiled at me, making me even more curious. I could handle the running homework, although waking up earlier would suck. But why was everyone treating me like a novice guardian? I was Moroi. If my dad knew how much time I was spending with dhampirs, learning all kinds of dhampir curriculum, he'd freak and send me to a new school.

"Okay," I said slowly, and my confusion must have been obvious in my expression; Alberta laughed.

"Don't worry, Laynie," she said. "This is a good thing."

"Okay," I said again, thankful when more kids started coming into the gym. This wasn't even the weirdest thing that had happened today.

To my dismay, I no longer had a Lexan-free schedule. He waltzed in, smirking when he saw me, and came to stand directly beside me on my mat.

"Well, hello there," he said. "Aren't you Moroi?"

I ignored him, staring forward at Alberta and mentally begging class to start.

"Unless those fire tricks are some kind of satanic witchcraft and not Moroi magic," he continued, and I could hear in his voice just how great he thought he was. I wanted to light him on fire again, but instead I swung to the side and punched him directly under the ribs. He let out a grunt and fell to his knees, and I retained my posture, acting like I had no idea anything was happening.

"Class hasn't started yet, Laynie," Alberta said, glaring at me. "Come to the front. You're up here today."

I grimaced, not too excited about every eye on me, but at least it meant that I wouldn't be stuck with Lexan.

"And Lexan, up here too. Gotta assess your skills."

Well shit.

"Laynie, no funny business," Alberta said as Lexan strolled up to the front of the classroom. "Or I'll find a way around that Court order."

That shut me right up. There was no way I was letting my dad find out anything about me.

As class started, Alberta had Lexan and me doing different things than the other students; she had us running the very basics. Both of us were way better than that, obviously, and we quickly progressed. Soon she was having us do maneuvers I'd never even practiced before, but apparently Lexan had. He knocked the breath out of me multiple times, smug while he did it, and I had to resist the urge to light him up.

I wasn't slow to catch on, though. Sweat poured down my back and I dodged and dropped, knocking Lexan's legs out from under him. He caught himself in a squat on the ground and used the floor to push up, just barely missing my neck. Around and around we went, dodging and attacking, both of our breathing heavy. Those eyes, those green, green eyes. I wasn't afraid of them. I could take them on any day.

"Dammit, Laynie," he grumbled as I grabbed hold of him; as a dhampir, he was much stronger than me, breaking my hold easily. "You're tougher than I thought."

"Thanks," I grunted, striking out once, twice, three times, and then ducking as he came at me again. I got him in the shoulder, then the stomach, and he stumbled backwards. I took my chance. Picturing my eyes, the ice cold blue of them, I leapt forward, and Lexan went down.

He didn't laugh or smile like Jeremy had. In fact, he looked confused.

"Are you afraid?" he asked, his brow wrinkled, but not mocking. He must have seen something in my expression when I saw the eyes and attacked him; he saw the fear I kept bottled up until it was useful to me.

"Not of you, asshole," I hissed back, his wrists under my hands too warm. I let go of him and moved back, turning away, and he leapt forward, taking me down.

"Never turn your back on an enemy," he said, and we had switched positions; he was now on top of me, his hands holding my wrists down. Despite guardian training, his skin was so smooth on mine. I could see the freckles on his nose. I tried to count them, not wanting to meet his green eyes.

"That's enough, Lexan," Alberta barked, and he moved off of me, standing up straight. He held out a hand to help me up, but I stood on my own, sore in every cell of my body. I couldn't imagine running after this. "Congrats, you two."

I didn't really know what she was congratulating us for. Maybe surpassing the other members of our class. Maybe kicking each other's asses.

What I did know, though, was that Lexan was looking at me. He looked confused still, and curious. Maybe he wanted to know what I was afraid of. Maybe he was pissed that I'd beaten him. Whatever it was, those eyes were staring at me. And the green stopped being so pretty.

—

The next class was another dhampir defense one, and of course, Lexan was in it with me too. This one was less work, more strategy than practice, and I didn't have to be his partner this time. I was grateful for that. His eyes were too prying, too interested.

The bell rang and I was out the door, my backpack not even making it onto my back before I was jogging toward the Moroi building. Only two more classes left for today. I remembered that I was stuck in my room after, but I figured that was better than running into Lexan somewhere on campus. I didn't want to be around him. I couldn't.

"Laynie, darling," a voice called, and I sped up. No.

"Laynie! Hey!" A hand was on my shoulder, and I ducked and kicked out behind me. Jeremy thudded to the sidewalk, holding his elbow. "Motherfucker," he hissed. "Chill out!"

"Sorry," I said, shaken. I tried to help him up but my fingers were trembling.

"Are you okay?"

"No," I said. "No."

"What's wrong?"

"Let's walk," I said, taking his arm and walking quickly toward my building.

"Dude, what's up with you?"

"Lexan," I hissed. "He's weird. I don't like him. I don't want him to talk to me."

"I think you're overreacting a bit. He was my partner just now. He's pretty cool."

"Okay," I said, not in the mood to argue. We had reached the building for the Moroi classes. "See ya, Jeremy."

"Bye, Laynie," he said, confusion still in his expression, but I didn't have the energy to worry. I jogged up the stairs to my classroom, thankful for the species difference between me and Lexan.

I had to go back to the gym for another dhampir defense class after that, and I was actually praying on the walk there. _Please don't let Lexan be in it with me_. He had figured out too much already; his green eyes understood. I didn't like when people understood me.

I walked into the gym and saw the practice dummies. They were introducing stake usage into the curriculum sooner to ease the minds of those at Court who wanted novices to graduate at sixteen. They figured that maybe earlier training rather than earlier graduation would work better. I tried to imagine being out in the world, fighting Strigoi at the age I was now, and my fingers started shaking. It must be terrifying for the novices to have to worry about that happening to them.

The stakes they were letting us use were not real, obviously; I saw a box of them at the front of the gym, made of some kind of gray foam. It was probably going to be a class on technique.

I sat down on a mat like some of the other students were doing, and I held my backpack between my legs, wrapping my arms around it and burying my face in the top. Only an hour more. Not even. Then I could go hide in my room in peace.

I didn't even hear or feel him sit down; guardians were trained to go unnoticed. When I looked up as Guardian Kova started speaking, I jumped. Lexan was sitting next to me, reclining with his long legs out in front of him and no care in the world.

"How tall are you?" I blurted in a whisper; his legs were insanely long. Moroi long.

"Six-four," he said. He didn't look upset at all, nor did he look curious. Just relaxed. I could deal with relaxed Lexan.

"How tall are you?" he asked after a bit. Kova had a dummy on the wall, and was going over very slowly how to hold the stake and what to do with it. I was trying to listen; I wasn't as strong as the dhampirs. I would have to work harder to do what they would be able to do.

So I glared at him. "Why are you talking to me?"

"You talked to me first."

"I'm five-ten," I finally answered, glaring back up to the front of the classroom. I didn't look at Lexan's reaction. He would probably have that infuriating smirk on his face.

The rest of the class went a similar way; Kova spent most of his time talking, about the stake and how lethal it was and how important it was that we be careful and know what we were doing. He passed around the box of fake stakes, walking to every student and assessing their hold on them. Lexan was left-handed; Kova didn't blink, wrapping his fingers around the hilt at precisely the proper angle and motioning how to throw with the opposite arm.

I could feel Lexan's green eyes on me as Kova helped me with my fake stake. I rolled it between my thumb and my palm, squeezing the foam, and tried to mimic the way I'd watched Kova and Lexan hold theirs. "Good job, Laynie," Kova said. "Don't forget about your homework." He then moved on to the next student.

"Is it just me, or will practicing our holds on fake stakes not really assist when we use the real ones?" Lexan whispered to me, and I kept my eyes trained on the stake in my hand, stabbing its soft point into the stained wood of the gym floor.

"Have you ever used a real one?" I asked.

"Sure."

"On people?"

"Strigoi aren't people."

There was something in his voice, and I looked up at him then. There was no smugness, no joking in the green of his eyes. All seriousness.

I could deal with serious Lexan, too.

"You're right," I said, then looked away again. The green got a little less intimidating.

After class let out, I started toward the Moroi dorm. Lexan was right beside me, and my strategy was just to pretend he wasn't there. That was much easier than running around and avoiding him.

"You just going back to your room?" he asked, and I realized that there was definitely a nosiness in the questions he asked. Was he interested in me or just curious?

"House arrest," I answered. "For last night."

"Oh." He didn't reply for a second, then spoke again. "Why were you out?"

"Because I saw you guys pull up and wanted to see what you were doing."

"Sounds like something I'd do."

"I believe that."

"Why?"

I paused. "Why do I believe that you would sneak out?"

"Yeah."

"Alberta said you were a bad kid," I said. "In fewer words."

He squinted at me. I realized we had already made it to my dorm, and we were just standing by the door. Surprisingly, I hadn't even noticed the eyes on me. Laynie Ozera, talking to the new kid. As if I could be any more of a freak.

"What?" I asked, uncomfortable under his gaze. "Knock that shit off."

"What shit?"

"You. Figuring me out." I glared up at him. "I don't like people trying to figure me out."

He nodded slowly. "I get it. You've got something to hide."

"What?!" I grimaced. "I don't! I just don't need strangers in my business."

"Aw, come on, we're not strangers, are we?"

"We are."

"I see right through you, Laynie Ozera."

"Stop." I rolled my eyes, feeling the fear for the green of his creeping back into my stomach. "Don't try to figure me out. Please."

His face softened, and I almost felt like he was going to reach out and touch me. I tensed, and his expression softened even further. He was looking at me like I was some kind of wounded animal that he wanted to take care of. "What you got under that thick skin?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing you need to see." I turned and went inside the dorm, my fingers shaking. No. Lexan didn't need to try to figure me out. He needed to stay away. Far, far away.

—

The next morning, my alarm rang at an hour when the sun was still awake. Why were they having me run in the mornings if I was a Moroi? I put three water bottles in a drawstring bag and dressed for a workout class, in running shorts and a snug tank top, putting my hair in a French braid down my back. I didn't look in the mirror before I went outside.

The grass around the track was covered with dew, so I put the bag down on the pavement, leaving the bottles inside it. I started with the warm-up, jumping jacks and stretches, and then set off at a steady pace. They wanted me to run long distances, not necessarily fast. I could already run fast, right?

"No way in hell," he said before I'd even made my first lap. I stopped in my tracks and squinted up the hill towards campus, where the voice had come from.

"You have got to be kidding me, Lexan," I growled. "Why did you follow me here?"

"I always run in the mornings," he said. "I ran yesterday morning, and you weren't here. It appears _you_ are following _me_."

I weighed my decision mentally; leave or stay here and let Lexan share the track with me? It was a long track. We didn't have to run by each other. We didn't even have to talk.

"Do you want me to go?" I asked finally. He was right; he did have the track first, if what he said was true.

"Not a chance," he said, grinning. "I've always wanted a running buddy."

"Not running buddies," I said immediately. "You get a head start. We're not running together."

"Aw, come on."

"Lexan, I swear to god I'll light your stylishly messy hair on fire."

"Stylishly messy, huh? I just woke up."

I rolled my eyes and scoffed, feeling my heart rate decreasing. "Just don't talk to me," I said, then started jogging again, keeping my eyes trained ahead.

I should have known that he wouldn't leave me alone. He warmed up in less than five minutes, then jogged to catch up to me, matching my pace despite his much longer legs. "So what are you so afraid of, Laynie Lynn?"

"That's not my middle name," I said through gritted teeth. I wished I had the strength to just ignore him, but I was too sharp to let him make a fool of me without fighting back in the slightest.

"I like the sound of it, though," he said. "What's your middle name then?"

"None of your business."

"Mine is Alexander. My name's actually Enver Alexander, just so you know," he continued. "I go by Lexan because Enver is kind of a weird name. It's Bosnian."

I didn't answer for a few seconds. "Why are you telling me this?"

"To open up to you, Eleyn. I want us to be friends."

"Why?" I groaned. "Why do you want us to be friends?"

"Why wouldn't I?" I didn't answer again, and he kept going. "I'm sixteen. I'm a Libra. My birthday is in October."

"You're not supposed to be able to talk this much while you're running," I stated.

"I'm slowing down my pace for you, love," he said, and I fake gagged.

"If you must know," he said after a few silent minutes. "I want us to be friends because I think we are very similar."

"In what ways?"

"We both are different than they are," he began slowly. "Both of our families have bad names. Both of us are mad at the world."

"I'm not mad at the world."

"Yeah, okay Laynie," he said sarcastically. "Both of us are bad kids. I know about the stuff you got into last year. And the years before that."

"You asking people about me? That's creepy."

"Everyone talks. They talk about me, and then when I come around, they talk about how weird you are for talking to me. Then they talk about why you're weird, including your past violence."

He was right about that. The gossip around here was never-ending. I was starting to breathe too heavy to really want to talk much, and I wondered how many times we had gone around the track. "Why are you bad?" I asked him, suddenly curious. Hey, if he was willing to tell me his life story, then I'd listen. I liked information just as much as the next person.

"We're both nosey," he said, grinning. I rolled my eyes.

"I left school when I was fifteen," he began. "I ran away. Like that famous girl, Rose."

"People say I'm like her," I said.

"We're both like Rose Hathaway," he said, his grin returning. "See how similar we are?"

I just nodded, and that seemed to make his smile even wider. "My mom and dad lived in this little remote town in Bosnia. My mom grew up there and came to the states, where she met my dad when he was assigned to be her guardian. They fell in love, blah blah, and once all the shit with Dashkov started happening, they moved back. They didn't want the attention, especially because my mom was so close to Victor before it all went down.

"She had no idea what he was, of course," he said. "You should have seen her when she found out about Natalie. Devastated for weeks."

I nodded slowly. Everyone knew how horrible Victor Dashkov had been. He had forced his own daughter to turn Strigoi, and she'd been killed almost immediately after. "Anyway, we moved back to the town where her parents lived. The lovely folks you saw the other night.

"So my dad and I learned Bosnian, and they enrolled me in one of the academies there. They had kept my last name as Dashkov because they wanted me treated like royal blood, I guess. Everything was all fine and dandy, and then out of nowhere the little town was attacked. There were a lot of Moroi living there. Strigoi took over the whole thing, burned it to the ground."

He didn't continue right away, and my stomach started to hurt. I couldn't tell if it was the running or the sadness I felt for him that was causing it. "So they found my dad. He died protecting my mom. Thing was, they didn't find her body. Anywhere."

I closed my eyes, feeling like my heart had stopped.

He said the words as I thought them. "They turned her.

"They pulled me out of class and gave me the news. And as soon as it was nighttime, I left that goddamn academy and fought my way through hundreds of Strigoi in Europe to find her. I was this little fifteen-year-old thing, no promise mark. I didn't look Moroi or like a dhampir, so it was easy for me to sneak around without them knowing what I was.

"The guardians from the school were tracking me, and so were guardians my mom's parents hired. At the same time, the Strigoi were getting scared, all these dhampirs on the loose in their playing ground. It made it harder for me to do what I was doing. Finally, I found out where she was, and I remember seeing her…" He trailed off, and I glanced at him, his eyes blank. "The Dashkov eyes, the green. But they weren't the same anymore. You got a thing for eyes," he said, waking up from his memory and looking down at me. "I see it, that you look into people's eyes. You ever seen a Strigoi's eyes?"

I shook my head. "No."

"You'd never be afraid of anyone else's eyes again if you looked into a pair of those," he said, his voice getting quiet. "Never ever."

He was quiet again, remembering, and then he finally spoke. "You gotta think about this, I mean I was on the run for almost a year. I had a birthday by myself, killing all these Strigoi. And I finally found my mom, the person I'd been searching for, and she didn't even – she recognized me, sort of. I had had this delusion that seeing me would wake her up. That she would be so overwhelmed with love for her son that she would break down and be healed. Who needed spirit magic, ya know? She was my mom."

He didn't talk for another several minutes. "She sort of recognized me. And she tried to kill me anyway, and I was gunna let her. I was so let down that I had been wrong. That she really was that far gone.

"And the guardians who had been tracking me busted into the building, which was this huge nest," he continued, his voice no longer animated. "That was part of why they had been following me, because they knew I was uncovering some serious shit. They killed my mom, Laynie." He stopped running abruptly, and I stopped several paces ahead of him, turning around to see him. I could hardly breathe, due to both the mixture of grief for him and pain from running for this long. He stared ahead and then sat on the ground, putting his head between his knees.

I didn't know what to do. Go to him? Stand where I was? Eventually, my pity won out, and I walked forward, sitting next to him on the pavement of the track. I put my arm around his waist, the heat seeping through his shirt into my skin.

"I know it doesn't help," I whispered after a little while. "But I'm sorry, Lexan."

"It's okay, Laynie," he said, looking up. His green eyes were bloodshot, like he wanted to cry. "I just wanted you to see that you're not alone. Everyone has struggles. Everyone's mad at the world in one way or another."

"Your reason is far more significant than mine," I said, looking down at my worn running shoes. "You went through hell and back."

"And yet, God deemed me lucky enough to meet you," he said, and I laughed. "That's a nice laugh."

"Thanks."

"You still think I'm so bad?" he asked. "So annoying and everything?"

"Yeah, still annoying," I said, and he smirked. "But I guess I have more reason to deal with it now."


	5. Flag

We sat on the track for a long time, my heart rate slowing as the sun went down. "Look at that," I heard him say after a very long silence. "Look at the sun."

I glanced to the left of us, the sky like a painted canvas, orange and pink and blue all splattered together. "It's like cotton candy," I replied, and he laughed.

"That's a nice laugh," I mimicked.

"Thanks."

"Did they ship you here because you ran away?" I asked suddenly, his haunting story playing in my head.

"Yeah," he replied immediately. I regretted making the sadness come back into his voice. "My mom died not even a month ago. I was out of school for a couple weeks, healing and everything, and then they sent me here. Better security, apparently."

"That's really sad," I said, without thinking. _Obviously it's sad, idiot_ , I yelled at myself.

"Yeah. Good thing I have such a positive attitude and energy, though," he said, grinning, and I laughed.

"You okay?" Lexan asked, and I looked over at him, seeing concern in his green eyes.

"Yeah?" I questioned.

"The sun, fuck," he said. He stood up and reached down to help me, and I didn't accept the help until I realized I needed it. I stumbled a couple steps before I was steady, squinting into the fading light.

"It's not bad," I said. "It's been worse."

"Yeah, but you've gotta be dehydrated too," he said, jogging across the track to where I'd put the water bottles. He pulled out two of them, opening one as he came back. "Drink this."

"Thanks, mom," I joked, but his face stayed serious, and I drank some of the water, feeling better right away. I didn't realize there was sweat on my face until I wiped the water off my upper lip, and I grimaced.

"You were running," he said, laughing. "Of course you're sweaty."

"I don't like being sweaty," I replied, and he laughed again.

"Come on, we should get back." He had slung my bag over his shoulder, and he opened the other water bottle, taking a drink.

"Hey, that's mine!" I said, and he spit some of the water at me. I dodged, glaring at the water bottle until it began to melt in his hand. He hissed and dropped it, laughing.

"You're so rare, Laynie," he said, a grin on his face. "Just the way you are is so rare."

"Careful, I can do worse than that," I warned, and took my bag from him, reaching in and handing him the other water bottle. He thanked me and we climbed up the hill together, heading off in opposite directions to our dorms.

—

I showered before I got ready for class, disgusted by the amount of sweat covering me after running for that long; I put my hair up in a tight topknot, wearing skinny jeans and a maroon sweater with a bulldog on it. "Your fashion sense is always so nice," Alex commented as we walked toward the cafeteria for breakfast. My entire body was sore, and I was looking forward to seeing a feeder.

"Yours too," I said, glancing at her. She was a Conta, but she didn't have very much money. A lot of her clothes were from places like Target or outlet stores, unlike many of the rich Moroi families whose students attended classes. "You know you can always borrow my clothes."

"Really?" she asked, her face lighting up. "Are you sure? I get dirty sometimes in my earth classes."

"I don't care at all," I said, laughing. "We can wash dirt off of clothes, ya know."

"Thank you, Laynie," she said, grinning wider than I could ever remember seeing her.

I felt a thousand times better after we saw the feeders; even my sore muscles hurt less. We walked together to our table and found Lexan sitting with Jeremy, Matt, and Crystal. He smirked up at me as we approached, and I rolled my eyes at him.

There was an open spot next to Lexan and another spot by Jeremy, and Alex took the one next to Jeremy right away, saying something that made him laugh. That only left Lexan as my neighbor, and I sighed as I sat down, making sure to look very put out by being his seat partner.

"You are a very rude girl," he told me, and Jeremy laughed again, Alex laughing with him. I hadn't noticed until today that she was sitting very close to him. She tossed her hair over her shoulder when he looked at her, and I could see his eyes follow her every move.

Lexan noticed me watching them, and I think he saw what I was seeing. Had Alex always had a crush on Jeremy? I didn't know if that had been some kind of long term thing that I was just now noticing. Was I that bad of a friend?

As if answering my mental question, Alex pulled me aside as breakfast was dismissed. "Jeremy is looking pretty good this year, isn't he?" she asked, and I grinned at her.

"Definitely," I replied. "Go for it. He's great."

"You think so?" she asked. Color flooded her pale cheeks as she looked at me, and I glanced to the side, seeing Lexan and Jeremy walking up to us. Alex and Jeremy would be walking in similar directions on their way to class, so I grabbed Lexan's arm.

"Hey, Lex, I think I left something in the gym yesterday. Come with me to get it before class." I started pulling him in the opposite direction, and Alex knew exactly what my plan was, her cheeks still red. She and Jeremy turned toward the classroom buildings, and I dragged Lexan with me toward the gym, smirking.

"You got that face from me," he said, "you little mimic. What are you doing?"

"Helping out my besties," I replied, smirking up at him. "I did not get this face from you. I've always smirked."

"Yeah, but that's my signature," he said, stopping us in the middle of the sidewalk. There was almost no one around anymore; everyone was on their way to class. He reached out and touched my cheek, the tiny dimple next to my lips. "You show a little dimple when you're smirking like me."

"Shut up," I said, laughing. "You've been here like a day. You don't know how I normally smirk."

"Guess I'll find out," he replied smoothly. "Lex, huh?"

"What?"

"You called me Lex when you were setting up Alex and Jeremy."

"Yeah, I guess?" I said hesitantly, wondering what his point was. "It's easier to say."

"Okay," he said, still smiling. He was always so smug, so sure. It was annoying.

"Keep that face up and I'll kick your ass in class today," I growled.

"You'll kick my ass anyway, Laynie," he said, chuckling and turning toward the classroom buildings. I had to hurry after him, his strides much longer than mine, especially when we had to try not to be late. He was all muscle, I saw as I walked behind him. His broad shoulders and his arms and his long legs. He was wearing jeans and a Henley, but not the one I had set on fire the other night.

Something fluttered in my stomach as I watched him, and I quickly shook my head, trying to think myself out of it. _Any other boy, Laynie_ , I told myself. But even still, my cheek was tingling where he had touched me.

—

Since there had been a Strigoi attack on the academy years ago, it had incorporated many procedures to make lockdowns more effective. The advanced novice guardians were even given posts to help protect the school, which Rose Hathaway had really proven was useful during her time here. It was pretty typical to practice the new procedures at the beginning of the school year, to really make sure students knew what to do if something terrible like that happened again.

The administrators must have decided to run the lockdown drill after all classes had ended, because immediately as the bell rang for the end of the school day, the alarms sounded. Kova grabbed a binder out of a holster on the wall and started reading off directions for those students who wouldn't necessarily know what to do, i.e. Lexan. Everyone else had done this a million times before.

"Laynie," Kova said, grabbing my shoulder as most of the novices began to file downstairs toward the safe-room. "You'll be with the advanced group. You, Larkin, Andrew and Maria are going to patrol the lower campus."

What? Since when? I wasn't a novice guardian, and I certainly wasn't a senior – so why me? What had I done that was important enough to be warranted such an important position?

 _We want to make you the best you can be_ , Alberta's kind and stern voice said in my head. Well, I guess if it would keep me out of the boring safe-room for a little while, then I'd be fine.

"Okay," I said slowly.

"Go meet them out front. You can go down to lower campus together."

"Yes, sir," I said, and started toward the exit. Lexan gave me a confused look; he probably had less idea what was going on than I did. I waved halfheartedly before pushing open the gym doors, where a blast of September night air hit me. I was glad I hadn't changed back into my workout clothes yet. My bulldog sweater would keep me warm.

Larkin and the others were where Kova had said they would be. I was immediately uncomfortable seeing him, remembering what had happened before school started. He looked okay to me, except for some bruising on his face. My stomach sunk in guilt. I had done that.

"Ozera's here," Larkin scoffed as I approached, and I ignored him. He had a reason to be upset with me, and I wasn't one to really care if people didn't like me anyway. We started walking toward lower campus in proper formation, one up front, two in the middle, one in back. Their guardian eyes scanned all around us, and I figured they could probably see less than I could. Moroi had better senses than dhampirs, but they had more strength.

"Where are you going?" Maria asked as Larkin and Andrew turned to go between two of the upper campus buildings. She was in the back of our group; Larkin was leading, and Andrew was on my right.

"Shortcut," Andrew answered. "This is just a drill, we'll be fine. We're just cutting through the trees."

"If you say so," Maria sighed, turning to go with them. Something didn't feel right to me. I didn't like the idea of changing protocol just because they were lazy. What if Strigoi really attacked the school one day, and their shortcut got someone hurt or killed? Or worse?

I knew I would never get them to listen to me, though, especially not Larkin. So I followed them through the buildings toward the trees, trying to be as diligently watchful as possible, like guardians were supposed to.

Which is why I noticed before Maria attacked me.

I had heard her get the tree branch, and I spun around just in time to duck before she smacked me with it. She hit Andrew instead, and he cursed loudly, reaching for me and grabbing my arm. I swung my free arm and punched him in the stomach, missing his core by inches, and he recovered immediately, throwing me to the ground.

I dodged one of their legs, but they were all coming after me – especially Larkin. He had recovered Maria's tree branch and brought it down like he was going to hit me in the face. I rolled several feet over and scrambled back to my feet, ducked down in guardian fighting style. They were not going to hurt me.

But they were good. All seniors, all some of the most advanced in their classes, and there were three of them. I had to use magic, and I set Larkin's shirt on fire, not bothering to keep it away from the fabric this time. He shouted in pain and tried to rip the burning shirt off, and this distracted Andrew, who I kicked right between the legs. He grunted and dropped to his knees, and Maria leapt toward me, faster than I could react. She threw me to the ground, throwing punch after punch into my face, my throat, my eyes—

I lit her hair on fire, long thick braids on either side of her head, and she screeched, grabbing them frantically and trying to put them out. I could feel liquid on my face, knowing I was probably bleeding at least some, but I didn't stop fighting. Larkin and Andrew were both coming at me again now, and their combined strength was more than I was able to fight effectively. I tried to picture the eyes, the cold, pale blue, but they didn't give me time before I was on the ground, pinned, feeling a fist connect with my face with enough force to chill my bones.

There were the eyes again, blue and icy and angry, and I finally saw them behind my eyelids, feeling adrenaline pulse through my veins. This time I didn't black out, but it was definitely out-of-body; I almost couldn't control my movements. I struck out like a cornered animal at Andrew on top of me, knocking him to the ground. I was on my feet, and I sent two hard kicks into his ribs before Larkin was there, his arm catching me in a tight headlock before I had a chance to hit him.

I swung my legs backwards and managed to dig the heel of my shoe into his shin, and his stance faltered, causing him to loosen his hold. Against any better judgment, I dug my teeth into his arm, careful not to actually taste any of his blood. I had enough sense not to do that.

He screamed before the endorphins that would make the bite feel good could kick in, and I used his weakness to my advantage, sending three hard hits into his face, and he backed away, ducking back down into fighting stance. Then I heard the scream.

Larkin and I both glanced to the side, seeing someone coming after Maria very quickly and efficiently; with two hits she was silent and on the ground, and the figure approached us through the dark trees. I recognized him before Larkin could, watching him knock out Andrew just as easily as he had done Maria. Then it was just me and Larkin, and he put up more of a fight than the others had. But if a bunch of Strigoi were no match for Lexan, a novice guardian most certainly wasn't.

"Are you okay?" he asked me as Larkin fell to the ground. He turned and held his hands up to me, as if I would be scared of him and he was assuring me I needn't be. "God, Laynie, your face."

"They just attacked me," I said quietly, my voice cracking. The adrenaline faded, and I could feel the pain in every part of my face, and in my ribs and stomach; had they kicked me there? I didn't remember.

I didn't realize I was falling until Lexan caught me, swinging me up into his arms. "Why are you out?" I asked, leaning my face on his shoulder. His arms tightened.

"Fuck lockdowns," he said, and I laughed. It hurt my whole torso to laugh, so I stopped with a gargle of pain.

"Goddammit," he groaned. "I want to kill them."

"I'm not worth going to prison for," I said, sighing. There was a lot of blood now, most of it coming from my nose. My poor bulldog sweater. "A lot of people beat my ass."

"Like who?"

"My—" I stopped quickly, frozen. "Put me down, please," I said quietly, but he didn't respond. "Lexan, put me down."

"Laynie, you probably can't even walk."

"Put me down!" I shouted, starting to fight him, and he let me go, trying to be careful as he set me on my feet even though I was scrambling away.

"What's wrong? Let me take you to the infirmary," he said, confusion in his face and his green, green eyes.

"Don't try to know about me, Lexan," I said, and I coughed, spitting blood out of my mouth. Immediately dizzy, I almost fell, but he reached out and caught me again, setting me upright.

"I'm not, I—"

"Don't try to know about me," I said, and I realized that I was crying just as I wiped my face unconsciously. The tears were mixing with the blood on my cheeks. "Don't ask who beats me, don't—"

"Is it your dad?" he asked, his face and voice soft. I glanced around us immediately, searching for anyone who might hear what he was saying. "Does he hurt you, Laynie?"

"Shut up," I growled, spitting again. I focused on the bloodstains on his Henley, from my face, but he shot forward and covered my eyes.

"Don't you set me on fire, Eleyn," he ordered. "You can tell me. I don't want anyone to hurt you."

"You don't even know me!" I shouted, stumbling backward, away from him. "You don't! You don't know anything about me! How can I trust you? How can I expect you to keep me safe?"

"You're my friend," he said. "Why wouldn't I want to keep you safe?"

"No one can keep me safe, Lexan," I said, and I tried to move away but stumbled again. He caught me, and this time I buried my face in his chest, digging my nails into his shirt. "Not Alberta, not you, not Christian Ozera or Mikhail promising not to tell my dad. No one."

"Do you not want him to know because you don't want him to hurt you because of it?" he asked, and I only cried harder, muffling my sobs in him.

"Laynie," he breathed, his voice mussing my hair. I hadn't even realized it had come out of its bun. "Laynie, he can't hurt you here."

"He can always hurt me," I said. "He can always hurt me anywhere."

"That isn't true," he said, desperation in his voice. "Laynie, you're bleeding. Please let me take you to the infirmary."

I just sighed, my breathing choked up and broken, and I held my arms out, letting him sweep me back up. He carried me to campus, and I was grateful everyone was still locked away. He pushed down the handle to the infirmary with his shoe, kicking the door open and catching it with his back so we could get through it.

"Oh my god!" Dr. Olendzski said as she saw us. The light inside compared to outside was blinding, and I buried my bloody face in Lexan's shirt. "Put her down, let me see. What happened?"

"She was sent on patrol with some senior novices," he began, telling the story for me, and I closed my eyes and listened to the hum of his voice, letting Dr. Olendzski poke and prod me and clean me up. I didn't look at Lexan. I didn't want to see the blood on his shirt or his eyes. I didn't know if I could believe that he would keep me safe if I saw his eyes.

I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up with sunlight streaming in the windows. The infirmary was empty except for me, and I blinked, gingerly touching my sore face. Ow. Ow. Everywhere it seemed there was a bruise, every cell of my face in pain. I seconded Lexan's wish for Larkin's death; except, I wanted to be the one to kill him.

And Maria and Andrew, too. Why them? Why did they want to hurt me, too? What had I ever done to them? They were raised with "they come first" pounded into their heads. What excuse did they have for beating the shit out of a Moroi in the woods?

It had been planned, too. Maria had even asked where we were going. They had all known about it. Why?

"Oh, you're awake," Dr. Olendzski said, coming into the room. "You can spend the rest of the night if you want, but you're allowed to go back to your dorm, Laynie. Everything is okay, you've just got some cuts and bruises."

"Did anyone find them?" I asked, hoping she would know who I was talking about, and she nodded, waving toward some beds whose curtains were drawn.

"Lexan told me he did everything to them, but they have some burns, Laynie," she said, her voice quiet. "And one boy has a bite. Did you fight back?"

"Yes," I croaked, my throat sore from the chokehold. "They wanted to kill me."

"Now, now," she said, sounding very motherly. "You don't know that."

I didn't speak, starting to move. Still sore. What was new?

"Do you want me to get a guardian to escort you back?" she asked, and I shook my head. I wanted to go lie in my bed and sleep. I was still wearing the bloody bulldog sweater, my jeans covered in dried muck from the forest floor.

"I can do it," I said, standing. I tried not to wobble while her eyes were on me, but god, did everything hurt. I felt like I needed a week off, just to remember what it felt like to have muscles that weren't always in pain.

I stepped outside into the sunlight and regretted the sweater; it was immediately too hot. I took careful and watchful steps toward the dorms, passing the dhampir ones first. And then I saw the flag in the window, the one I knew was Bosnia's because of last year's geography class. It only covered the top half of the window. The bottom could still open.

Good.

I had climbed into my dorm from the first floor several times, since I was no stranger to wandering around after hours and I usually didn't get caught. Using my sore feet and scraped up hands, I dragged myself onto the tiny ledge of the first floor dorm's window and jumped so I could reach his windowsill, having to try several times before my weak fingers got a good hold. Slowly, and very carefully, I pulled, managing to get my elbows onto the sill and then painfully lifting the rest of my body up.

I tugged on the window, praying it would be unlocked, and I was surprised to find that it was. Pushing the blinds up and sliding into the room clumsily, I groaned in pain. This had been a bad idea.

Immediately, I dismissed that thought. Lexan was lying in his bed, in a t-shirt and basketball shorts, his hair damp like he had just showered. He looked a little confused, but didn't move from his position.

"Laynie, love," he said, starting to grin. "Why on earth are you breaking into my room?"


	6. Nightmares Suck

I didn't reply right away, and I just looked at his eyes, scanning the green for anything to be afraid of. There was nothing. In fact, I was increasingly feeling more and more safe around Lexan. I didn't like that very much.

"I don't want to be alone."

"You have a roommate, though, don't you? Alex."

"Do you want me to leave?" I asked, starting to second guess my decision. I could jump right back out the window and go to my dorm; I could shower and pretend nothing had ever happened. I could find some way to explain the bruises. Worked too hard in practice yesterday. Ran into some actual Strigoi while patrolling.

"No way," he said, standing up. I realized he'd been reading, or writing, rather. A spiral notebook fell closed where he'd been lying on the bed. "Look at you."

"I don't like mirrors," I said, shaking my head. "I don't want to see."

"Do you look like him?" he asked, and I blinked, surprised he was so blatantly asking me questions about something I had always tried so hard to keep secret.

"Don't." I shook my head, my knotted hair falling into my eyes.

"Oh, I know," he said, reaching out and touching my face gingerly. He was so gentle. "It's the eyes, isn't it?"

"Stop," I said, backing away. "This was a mistake."

"It was not," he argued, turning away. He walked to his dresser and pulled out another pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt, taking a towel off a stack in his closet along with a bag of toiletries. "There's never anyone in the bathrooms this late. I'll go with though and stand watch in the hall, just to make sure."

I laughed, sounding mildly hysterical. Some worry spiked in his eyes.

"No, don't look that way," I said, walking slowly to him and taking his things. "I stink, huh?"

He grinned. "A little. You're the one with all the vampire senses. Can't you smell yourself?"

"I don't know, I think I might my broken nose might be preventing that."

"Your nose isn't broken," he said, reaching forward to touch it. He was gentle again, his fingers reminding me of a doctor examining me.

"If you don't become a guardian," I said, "you should do something medical."

"I've just seen a lot of injuries in my time," he said, puffing out his chest like some old war veteran talking about past battles. "Your nose really isn't broken, though. Which is a surprise."

"Why's that?"

"Because like, every other part of you is," he said, grinning, and I rolled my eyes, moving toward the door. He let me go first, walking next to me down to the bathroom, and did as he'd said, waiting outside the door.

I tried to shower as quickly as possible, but it was difficult when the water that flowed down to the drain at my feet was stained with blood, and when every part of me hurt or stung. My long hair was difficult to untangle with boy conditioner, and finally I was finished, putting on his giant clothes. The bow I made with the drawstring of the basketball shorts was so big it was funny.

"You look just great," he said, snickering as I came out of the bathroom, and I went to punch him but restrained myself, knowing it would only hurt my injured knuckles more.

"These are your clothes, asshole," I reminded him.

"Touché," he said, and we walked back to his room in comfortable silence. I was worried about how safe I felt with him after everything that had happened; I knew it wasn't a good idea, that it couldn't lead to anything positive. What would I do when he failed to keep me safe? Would I be able to handle the inevitable letdown?

I looked over at him, at his long eyelashes and purposely messy hair and freckles, and I decided that I would risk it.

"I wish I could read your mind," he said, opening his dorm door for me. I walked in first, then waited for him to direct me further.

"Why?"

"You're always thinking," he noted. "Those big blue eyes of yours, always worried or curious or deciphering something someone said."

"That's kind of true," I said. "It would probably be boring more often than not, though."

"Oh, I don't know. You're more interesting than you give yourself credit for, Miss Ozera."

"Well, Mister Dashkov," I said, rolling my eyes. "You're more annoying than you think."

"Ow." He put his hand on his heart, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes again, looking around his room. It was relatively bare, especially since he had just moved in the day before; he had no extra belongings, nothing on the walls. One single picture frame on his nightstand, holding a picture of a family. I didn't look too closely at it. It would make me sad.

His closet door was open, and I saw some nice clothes hanging inside it, along with some shoeboxes on the top shelf. There was no mirror, thank god. Lexan's room was safe in more ways than one.

"I like your room," I told him.

"Thanks. It's kind of a mess."

"Not even," I said, shaking my head. "My room is way messier than this. The worst part of this room is my clothes right there." I pointed to where I had just placed my folded, but very dirty and gross, bulldog sweater and jeans. "I really liked that sweater."

"I'm sure there are some shortcuts to getting blood out of stuff," he said. "Besides, it's maroon anyway."

"True." It felt weird that we were making small talk, and I moved to his bed, sliding the notebook over and dropping it on the nightstand so he didn't worry that I would read it. I was nosey, but I wasn't that nosey. I knew where to draw a line.

"It's not a secret," he said, noticing my care and laughing. "It's drawings."

"Drawings, huh?" I said, my curiosity rising. "Of what?"

"Bosnia. Strigoi."

"None of me?"

"Not yet."

I laughed, sitting down on the bed. He came and sat next to me, and I leaned on his shoulder, sighing when he put his arms around me. "Thank you, Lexan," I said. "For protecting me."

"I'll always try to protect you, Laynie."

"Don't throw the 'always' around, ass," I said sharply. "We just met. No always."

"Yet."

I rolled my eyes again, even though he couldn't see.

Both of us yawned at the same time, and he stood up, switching off the light. The room plunged into darkness, but my eyes adjusted almost immediately. He crossed the room and sat back down, and I sighed again. "We sharing this tiny little bed, or am I sleeping on the floor?"

"First of all, this is a double bed. Not tiny," he explained. "Second, you are broken and just got your ass whooped. So no, you are not sleeping on the floor. I would be happy to sleep on the floor and let you have the bed, however."

"Fuck no," I said, shaking my head even though it was dark. "We're sharing, then."

"Whatever you say, Princess Ozera."

"Hey, I'm no princess. I'm far too young," I said, and he laughed.

"Alright, well lie down, then," he said, and I obeyed, moving toward the wall. As easy as it was for me to feel cornered and want to escape, I really did feel safer sleeping next up against the wall. Not only was it a cold relief when I got too hot, but it was also a guarantee that nothing could reach me from that side.

We lay silently next to each other for a few seconds before I moved closer to him, and he slid his arm around me, letting me rest my head on his shoulder. "Thank you," I said again.

"No need to thank me," he answered, yawning. I felt his exhale ruffle my hair like before.

"Well I'm going to anyway."

"I figured."

"Goodnight, Lex."

"Goodnight, Laynie love."

—

I had expected his alarm to wake me up, but instead it was Lexan himself, jerking and groaning at my side. Sometime during the night I had turned to face the wall, which was uncharacteristic enough in itself, but I also couldn't remember what I'd been dreaming about. This night was full of surprises.

I turned over carefully, curious, and saw that his eyes were still closed, his hair flat on one side. He was gritting his teeth, struggling against something invisible, and I realized quickly that he was having a nightmare. I was no stranger to those.

What I was a stranger to, however, was what to do when someone was having them. No one ever woke me up and rescued me from my bad dreams.

"Lexan," I said quietly, reaching out and touching his face. It was sweaty, but I didn't find it gross in the slightest. Maybe only my sweat grossed me out.

"Lexan, love," I said, louder this time, smoothing his hair back. "It's a dream. Lexan."

He relaxed a little bit, but remained stuck inside his head, and I sighed. It couldn't be pleasant to get woken up from a nightmare loudly or by someone scary; besides, that would mean I'd be risking getting myself hurt. So I just stuck to my first plan, murmuring his name and touching his face. I vaguely remembered my mom doing this when I was too scared to sleep.

It was abrupt when he finally awoke. His eyes snapped open, his whole body freezing, and he began scanning the room, realization slowly dawning that it had just been a dream. He finally looked at me, halfway draped over him and touching his face, and there was that smirk, his tired eyes crinkling at the corners. "Hey, Laynie," he said. "Nightmares suck, huh?"

"Yeah, they do," I whispered back, keeping my fingers on his skin. I liked the way they tingled when I touched him. "You okay?"

"I'm fabulous now," he replied, turning toward me and pulling me into his chest tightly. I didn't have time to think or get situated, but I still felt safe, so safe. A little hot, but safe.

"Did I wake you up or did you wake yourself up?" I asked.

"A little of both. I could hear you while I was dreaming. Like an angel."

"Shut the hell up," I said, laughing into his shirt.

"You're like an angel, Laynie."

"With fangs and the ability to set literally anything on fire."

"That's the best kind of angel."

"Why were you in the woods? How did you get out of the lockdown?" I asked him, watching his tired eyes. Green and safe.

"I just kind of walked out. Kova was talking to some other students who were pissed they weren't in the advanced group. And I had heard him say the lower campus, so I went that direction, and then I heard you guys fighting in the woods."

"How did you hurt all of them? How did you stop them?"

"I have done a lot of harm, Laynie," he whispered in reply, and I looked back up at his eyes, seeing the green was sad. Still safe. "Novices or Strigoi? I'm going with novices."

"You'd win either way."

"Thanks."

"It's true."

"It's nothing to be proud of, Laynie. I don't like that I'm good at hurting people."

I nodded, understanding what he meant. I could see why he wouldn't want to be known for his skill at killing. "Why didn't you care that I came in your window?"

"I heard you climbing up. I don't like to neutralize threats. I face them head-on."

I laughed into his chest. "I'm a threat?"

"Oh, not a chance. There was just a possibility that you could be when I didn't know it was you."

"I'm insulted. I've kicked your ass before."

"Why did you look scared?" he asked me, now the one doing the interrogating. "When you beat me?"

"That's how I win," I said. "I beat Jeremy that way too. The day before school started, I was practicing with Larkin, and his eyes caught the light and looked just like mine. So I blacked out and kicked his ass on accident. That's why he hates me.

"And when I was fighting Jeremy in practice, I sort of…pictured the eyes. I wanted to see if it would make me fight well again. And it did.

"So I did the same thing with you. Except, you noticed."

"I notice a lot about you."

I watched him, seeing the honesty and care in his eyes. No one had ever looked at me like that. "I know."

"What about in the infirmary?" I asked after a few seconds, trying to remember the trauma. "How long did you stay?"

"You passed out and she told me I had to leave. Everyone had made it out of the lockdown by then, and the guardians were bringing back the dhampirs I knocked out. They looked at the situation and they started running their mouths."

"Of course they did."

"I don't know what they're going to be saying tomorrow," he sighed. "But I don't really care. I got to spend the night with you."

"Shut up," I laughed, punching him in the ribs. I was quiet for another few seconds. "You make me feel lucky, Lex."

"Ditto, Laynie love."

—

The morning was a much easier story. I woke up before he did, climbing out of his bed clumsily after seeing there was very little sun behind the blinds. Of course this woke him up, and he grinned at me. I had to look away from his tired eyes. There was that fluttering in my stomach again.

"You could wear my clothes to school today," he said, still grinning. "Or you can go back to your dorm. The walk of shame."

"It's not a walk of shame because we didn't fuck," I said, and he laughed loudly, like he hadn't expected me to say that. "Plus, I'm heading out this way." I jerked my thumb toward the window.

Concern spread across the humor on his face. "Are you sure you're good enough?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"God, Laynie," he said, covering his face. "Good as in, like, your injuries won't make you fall and break your neck."

"You really are a mom," I said, and he smirked under his hand. I crossed the room and grabbed my clothes, heading back to the window. "It's been a pleasure, Lex. Thank you again."

"Be safe," he called, moving his hand away. "See you at breakfast."

"We're not running today?"

"No time." He pointed to a digital clock I hadn't noticed, on top of his dresser.

"Aw, shit. Well see you at breakfast then."

"Yes ma'am."

I waved before sliding out of the window, using the same ledge I'd used while climbing in. I jogged back to my dorm, very stiff but otherwise okay. Something about being around Lexan made everything hurt less.

Alex looked surprised when I came into the room, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "What the hell happened to you? Do you know what people are saying?"

"No?" I asked, not really caring. I stripped off Lexan's clothes – no one could tell the difference between bruises from practice and the other bruises anymore – and dug through my dresser drawers, pulling out a high-low skirt and a gray v-neck. "Here, you want anything?"

"Laynie," Alex said, throwing her covers back and standing up. "People are saying you went out with Lexan and beat the shit out of those other dhampirs. That you tried to use Larkin to…"

I paused, glancing up at her. "To what?"

She didn't say anything, so I immediately knew. "People think I was trying to go Strigoi?"

Her silence was enough of an answer.

"Well, obviously it's all lies," I said, taking out a long-sleeved cream turtleneck and light-wash ripped skinny jeans. "Here, this would look really good with your hair."

She accepted the clothes immediately, but her face was still a grimace. "Laynie, you don't care that they're saying that about you?"

"No, because it's not true," I said. "Think about it, Alex. If that were true, Lexan and I would be suspended or worse. Why would I have used Larkin's arm to drink from anyway? Especially if I were trying to drink all of his blood?"

"I don't know, Laynie—"

"For your information, Kova put me in their group. And they knew about it, and they planned ahead of time to beat the shit out of me. Do you see my face? Do you see my body?" I lifted up the v-neck before I tucked it in, showing dark purple bruises all over my ribs and stomach. They were obviously fresh. "Lexan got out of the gym and was out looking for me. He's the only reason I'm not dead."

"You don't know that they were trying to kill you."

"See, everyone keeps saying that, but why else would three of them have led me into the woods and then kicked the shit out of me? They weren't fighting like they wanted to just knock me out, Alex." I glared at her. "Do you believe what people are saying?"

"Of course not, Laynie," she scoffed. "How can you ask me that?"

"You're talking like you believe them." I kept glaring. "Lexan saved me. Larkin and the other dhampirs wanted to hurt me. And I spent the rest of the day and most of the night in the infirmary." I paused, debating on telling the truth. "All of the night there, actually."

"Whose clothes were those?"

"Lexan's. He brought them to me so I wasn't wearing my bloody ones."

She looked torn, but sighed, nodding. "Don't think I don't believe you. You just… You know how I am with gossip. And you don't care. You just pile on more of it."

"Alex, you can kick major novice ass, but you're worried about what people think of you?" I asked. "My whole family has basically been shunned my entire life. I don't remember ever being accepted just the way I was by anyone except you and our other friends. Everyone else judges me. So yeah, I'm used to this. It doesn't bug me. I'm sorry it bugs you, but there really isn't jack shit we can do about it." I could hear that I sounded harsh, and I regretted it, but I was telling the truth. People were going to spread stories about us for our entire lives. "You don't have to be friends with an Ozera," I said. "Especially if you're so worried about your reputation."

"Laynie…"

"No, Alex. I get it. I was defending myself. If someone had you almost in a headlock, their arm right in front of your face, what would you do?"

She sighed, not replying.

So I didn't either. I finished getting dressed and went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and put my hair in pigtail French braids, getting my backpack out of the room while Alex changed her clothes. I didn't wait for her, stalking to breakfast on my own.

I could feel a million pairs of eyes on me as I walked to the cafeteria, but I kept my head held high, not at all worried about what people were saying about me. I hadn't been lying to Alex – people had to know that I would be in major trouble if half of what they were saying was true. _Just let them talk._

Another day that I was insanely grateful for feeders. I'd lost a lot of blood yesterday, and I didn't know whether I'd been given a transfusion; either way, I was starving, though I was careful not to take too much. I didn't need more Strigoi rumors.

As sensitive as Alex was being, I still felt bad for her as I thought about what she had said. She already wasn't from a very rich family, so she had people calling her poor or cheap. She was low on the royal totem pole. But it was all so petty; who cared what high schoolers thought about you? I wished she would just stop caring, but it didn't always come easy for everyone.

Alex wasn't at the breakfast table when I reached it, but Jeremy and Matt were; I didn't see Crystal. They greeted me with just as much enthusiasm as they usually had. Boys cared less about rumors than girls did around here, especially dhampir boys. They really didn't care much about any gossip. My friends liked me for me.

"You heard what people have been saying?" was Matt's first question as I sat down, and I shrugged.

"Alex gave me the gist. I think she believes it," I said, frowning. "I don't know why she would. When have I ever suggested that I would willingly turn Strigoi?"

"You're too much of a wimp," Jeremy said, grinning, and I rolled my eyes and laughed, cracking open my water bottle. Just as I went to take a drink, Lexan approached, tapping the end of the bottle so water sloshed out onto my shirt.

"Fucker," I said, tossing a ball of flame at him, and he tried to swat it away with his notebook. The back cover got singed, but the fire went out immediately, as I'd meant it to. So much for not using magic on him.

"Well, good morning, Miss Strigoi," Lexan began as he sat down. "Did you hear that you and I engineered the attack of three senior novices?"

"Why, I did not," I replied, trying to match his uppity tone. "But that sounds a bit like something we would do, doesn't it?"

"Indeed it does," he said, grinning. "I wish we had thought of it ourselves."

"You guys are full of shit," said Jeremy, and I laughed, blotting the water on my shirt. I tried to dry it with fire, but didn't want to risk burning the fabric, and stopped.

"Where is Alex?" Lexan asked, looking around the cafeteria. "My god, Laynie, did you try to kill her too?"

"No, she's just worried about me messing up her reputation," I complained. "I don't know why she cares so much what people think."

"Guessing Crystal cares, too," Matt said, nodding toward the breakfast line. Alex was standing there with Crystal, and they were talking to some other girls, laughing about something with their heads close together. Then they went to a table all the way across the room, sitting with their backs to us. Alex wasn't wearing the clothes I'd picked out for her.

My heart began to ache in my sore chest. Lexan seemed to notice, nudging me with his knee under the table. I glanced at him, then down at the table, gritting my teeth. My best friend didn't want to be around me anymore, just because of some stupid rumors.

"At least you have me," Lexan whispered, and I looked up at him again, seeing sincerity in his tired green eyes.

"Don't remind me," I replied, and his answering smirk made my heart ache just a little less.


	7. Cotton Candy

I began to find myself getting into a sort of routine. I started my day running with Lexan, and most of the time we didn't even talk. We had reached a happy middle ground where we just felt safe enough with each other to simply exist; the comfort of sharing a track was enough for us without any questions or our usual nosiness getting in the way.

After running, I would shower and go to breakfast with Lexan, Jeremy, and Matt. Alex and Crystal didn't return to our table. I guessed the rumors were too much for them.

After breakfast were my first four classes, and then lunch with Lexan, Jeremy, and Matt again. Then the rest of my classes, where Lexan and I had practically been named permanent sparring partners. Our skills were unique to the two of us, and we made each other better.

Especially practicing with stakes. Lexan had already used real ones a thousand times, so it was helpful to have him showing me the ropes, however left-handed he was.

After classes I would return to my dorm for house arrest, which Alex vigorously avoided. Sometimes I would leave and climb into Lexan's room. Most of the time, however, I stayed in and did homework and existed. On the weekends Alberta gave me leave, and I spent those days with Lexan and my friends. Life had an easy way about it during that time.

This routine lasted the whole first month of school and several weeks beyond, and I couldn't complain, except I was always sad in the back of my mind about Alex leaving me. Lexan assured me that had she been a quality friend, she wouldn't have believed the rumors in the first place, nor would she have abandoned me to keep her reputation positive. I wasn't missing out on anything.

But I did miss her. She was my best friend, the only girl I could relate to, the only girl who knew anything about me. Well, she was one of two people who had inquired about my bruises. Lexan and Alex, and I had lost one of my safety nets.

I think Lexan noticed how attached I was growing to him, and it was reciprocated. We comforted each other after one of us had a nightmare; we pushed each other to break personal records and to do well. It became hard for me to imagine what I would do if I lost both him and Alex. So I clung to him, tightly, and he did the same in return.

As Halloween crept closer, my worries began to grow. The nearer November got, the sooner I would be forced to go back home to my parents, and spend a week with my father. I couldn't look at those eyes again, not after perfect green ones keeping me safe for this long. I didn't know what I would do.

"What's got your panties all twisted, love?" Lexan asked as I sat on the grass promptly after the first ten laps, which was not typical at all for me. I had been managing a minimum of five miles every morning, except weekends where we took rest days. He sat next to me, our thighs touching. I always noticed how warm he was.

"It's October," I said, frowning. "Almost November."

"What happens in November?"

"I have to go home," I whispered, my throat tight. Lexan would understand. He always did.

"No you don't," he said. "Come to Bosnia with me."

I looked up at him, shocked. "Are you kidding? That's impossible."

"It's not. Talk to Alberta. Hell, talk to Ozera at Court. Don't they know?"

"No one knows for sure," I said, looking down at the worn fronts of my Nikes. "My dad wouldn't let me. He'd demand that I come home."

"I don't really give a shit what he'll demand," Lexan said easily, and I laughed, shaking my head.

"You make it sound so easy."

"You just make everything difficult is all."

"Fuck off," I replied, elbowing him and laughing. We stayed on the grass, watching the sun sink down, and I leaned my head on his shoulder.

"Like cotton candy," he whispered, and I nodded.

"Just like it."

—

At first, I thought we were having another lockdown. All of my attackers, Larkin, Maria, and Andrew, had been promptly removed from the school. That kind of malicious violence was never tolerated. They had decided to give the advanced novice positions to three other seniors, all of whom I didn't know, so when they came into the gym after eighth period ended, I froze. My Lexan grabbed my hand, squeezing once to let me know I was safe.

"We're going to need Eleyn Ozera to come with us down to the main office building," the tallest dhampir said to Kova, and he shrugged, pointing at me. They stayed where they were, but the speaker motioned for me to come with them.

"Can I bring Lexan?" I asked Kova, and he glanced at the dhampir, who nodded. I looked at Lexan, at his green eyes.

"We'll be fine, love," he said, and kept his hold on my hand, sweeping up our backpacks from the floor with his other one and starting after the seniors. I snatched my bag from him, not wanting him to have to carry both of ours. He glanced at me and smirked.

"So what's this about, fellas?" Lexan asked smoothly as we walked, two of the dhampirs behind us and the tall one in front. "We in some kind of trouble?"

"No," the leader said. I felt like his name might have been Luke. "People from Court are here to see you."

"Oh, shit," I said, sighing with relief. So I wasn't about to get expelled. Hopefully.

We walked into the front office into a sea of black-suited guardians; I looked all around them, hoping for a friendly face, but found none. One of them approached me, smiling.

"Hello, Eleyn," the guardian said, and his brusqueness reminded me of my father. Thank god this guy had brown eyes. "The queen and her husband have sent for you to spend the weekend at Court as a gift. You are allowed to bring one friend with you." He glanced up at Lexan, curious. "This is him, I suppose?"

"Yes," I said immediately, not bothering to ask Lexan if he wanted to go. My stomach sank as I realized that normally I would probably have asked Alex.

"Go pack your things and return here," he said. "We are leaving in less than an hour."

"Why all the guardians?" Lexan asked, his warm fingers still tangled with mine.

"We were informed that Miss Ozera was 'dangerous,'" the guardian said, and Lexan and I both laughed.

"By who?" he asked.

"Lord Ozera," was his response, and I grinned. I didn't know whether or not I should have been flattered.

Lexan and I first ran to his dorm, where I actually went inside from the front door; one of the Court guardians had come with us, and the dorm matron had nothing to say about me due to our escort. I found out the proper way to get to Lexan's room, which was down the hall from Jeremy's.

"I'm gunna go say bye to them," I told Lexan, and he nodded, dragging a duffle bag out from under his bed.

"Be safe," was his reply, as usual, and I smirked, heading out of the room to where I knew Jeremy and Matt lived.

They had both just gotten out of class, and Jeremy was shirtless, changing into a clean shirt that wasn't sweaty from practice. "Oh, sup, Laynie," he said, immediately grinning. "How'd you get up here?"

"Guardians from Court are taking Lexan and me there for the weekend," I said, surprised to hear excitement in my voice. I had never been to Court. My father never talked about it. And I was also a bit excited to see Christian again.

"Oh really?" he asked, starting to look worried.

"No, it's a good thing, like a family visit," I said, smiling to try and cheer him up. "They let me bring one friend. Normally I would have taken Alex, but you know." He didn't reply. We both knew.

Whatever budding crush Alex had had on Jeremy was gone as soon as the lockdown had happened. Jeremy could have picked her or me, and he had picked me. Jeremy wasn't one to hang out with cliques of royal girls. Just two, and now one.

"You should have taken me!" he complained, but his smile looked genuine. "That sounds amazing, Laynie. Good for you."

"Thanks," I replied. "Where's Matt?"

"Showering, but I'll tell him you came by," he said, and I nodded.

"Thanks, Jer." I almost left, but he grabbed me and hugged me tightly, still shirtless. He planted a huge kiss on my cheek, which I groaned about, wiping his spit off my skin right away.

He laughed. "Have fun, sweetheart," he told me, and I felt myself starting to blush, nodding and backing out of the room. I jogged back down the hall to Lexan's dorm, finding him almost finished packing already. He shoved the pack of toiletries on top of his clothes and zipped it up, turning to me. "Hasta la vista, baby. You okay?" Excitement turned to confusion as he read my expression, and I nodded, trying to shake off the discomfort.

"Jeremy is just weird," I replied, and Lexan half-smiled, still confused. "I'll tell you more on the plane. We gotta run." My dorm was still a ways away from Lexan's, and we had a flight to catch.

I was incredibly grateful Alex wasn't in our dorm when I entered. I wasn't sure what to pack, filling my duffle with pajamas and regular outfits. If I needed some kind of gown, I was sure I could buy one from a store in the Court. I had a debit card connected to my family's balance; my father would be happy to know I was attending royal Moroi parties with the Queen. He wouldn't mind me using the money.

Reaching under my bed for the one singular pair of black heels I owned, I spotted the letter my father had written me at the beginning of the year. I pulled it out, putting it on top of the heels in my suitcase. Lexan and I could have some official letter burning ceremony in one of our fancy Court hotel fireplaces.

Lexan and I held hands, our duffle bags over our shoulders, as we walked back to the main building. We climbed into an Escalade full of guardians, and rode in the middle of a pack of them to the academy's airport. It wasn't raining, but I stared out the window anyway. "Like a submarine," I told Lexan, glancing away from the scenery to him. We were passing through a small city, and it was rare that I saw this many buildings that weren't a part of the academy or my tiny neighborhood in Washington. "Isn't it?"

"Submarines are underwater," he pointed out, and I laughed, rolling my eyes.

"You don't understand."

"Allow me to." He was giving me one of his rare serious looks, but the Escalade rolled to a stop in front of the tiny airport before I had the opportunity to explain.

We followed the guardians to the air strip, climbing into the small jet easily; we were left alone on the plane, a tiny screen on the backs of the seats in front of us playing some old black and white movie. I had never seen it, but Lexan looked thrilled as soon as he realized what it was.

" _Casablanca_ ," he told me excitedly, grinning. "Haven't you seen this before?"

"Nope," I answered, watching it carefully. We didn't have any headphones, so the movie was on silent.

"'Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world,'" he quoted in a very 1940s voice, leaning in to whisper the line into my ear, "'she walks into mine.'" His breath tickled, and I laughed, shoving him away. His grin was too beautiful for me to look at, so I glued my eyes to the screen, trying to decipher what was going on.

I woke up to the plane landing, the guardians' feet shuffling down the aisle next to me, and I jolted, looking around. Lexan was sleeping next to me, and the first thing I saw was his lips, tiny puffs of breath passing in and out of them. His half-hidden teeth were flawless and white.

"Let's go," a guardian said next to me, and I jumped, starting to wake my seat partner. I was always careful not to scare him awake, especially if he was having a bad dream; that probably wouldn't go well for either of us.

Walking out of the plane, into the calm dimness just before sunrise, I knew immediately that we weren't in Montana anymore.

The Court was magnificent. The buildings looked like they were glowing all around us, and they were far taller than anything I'd seen at the academy. Lexan didn't look as impressed as I was, but I felt his eyes on me as I marveled at it all. He always watched me. It made me feel safe.

We were led immediately to the rooms where we were staying, which were right next to each other, thank god. Our bags were already in there, and Lexan and I looked around mine first, our eyes wide.

"Look at the size of this bed!" I called to him, jumping onto the down duvet and landing face-first. "This is like three of mine!"

"Come look at the bathroom," he shouted back, and I scrambled up, running to where I'd heard his voice. The bathroom was nearly the size of my entire dorm room at the academy, the floor tiled black and white marble with a giant Jacuzzi bathtub and double showerheads. The rugs were plush and bright emerald, and I grinned at him, pointing to his eyes.

"You are so lame," he said, laughing and leaving the bathroom, and I dropped to my knees on the floor, looking under the sink at the array of soaps, body washes, and bubble baths. I knew exactly what I was doing tonight.

Following Lexan back out to my room, I saw he had done exactly what I had, his face pressed into the fluffy pillows on the bed. I crossed over to the balcony and flung the curtains open, looking out at the gorgeous view of Court. Alex had always complained when her family had taken her here, but I couldn't see why. My family was more well-off than hers, and I hadn't even experienced this height of luxury. Maybe she wouldn't have wanted to come with me, anyway.

"I wanna see your room," I said, and he started to stand, but a knock on the door froze us both. We met eyes, and then raced to the door, opening it side-by-side.

It was another guardian, his face a mask. "You're free to explore wherever you want," he told us. "There is a dinner tonight at seven. A guardian will come to escort you. The dress is semiformal." He turned and walked back down the hall in the direction he'd come, and I looked at Lexan, worried.

"What does semiformal mean?"

"Beats me," he answered, grinning. "This should be fun."

—

The first thing Lexan and I did was eat. There was a tiny restaurant right underneath where our rooms were, and we went there, both of us arguing about who was paying. I insisted, and then the waiter told us our meal was on the house because we were special guests of the Court. Lexan's answering smirk was dazzling.

After, we asked around until we were directed toward a tiny shop that apparently sold all sorts of evening wear. The saleswoman sensed our innocence and didn't try to scam us, but I had a feeling if she'd known who we really were that the story would have been a little different. Dashkov and Ozera. Two of the least-respected royal families out there.

For my semiformal attire, she found me a small black dress with a v-neckline, the skirt covered in pink and green watercolor flowers. My heels would go with it. For Lexan, she made him match me, and his bowtie was the same shade of pink as the flowers on my skirt. He looked mortified when she tied it around his neck, and I cracked up at his expression, spinning around in the tiny dress and grinning up at him.

We stood by each other in the mirror as the saleswoman bustled around us, fixing up little loose items of clothing, and then stepped back, admiring her work. "You look wonderful," she said, smiling widely. "Would you like to wear those out? It is…" She checked her watch. "Almost six now."

"Sounds good to me," I answered, actually looking at myself in the mirror. I avoided the eyes still, but the rest of me actually looked – well, stunning. My smile was tiny, and Lexan reached out and tapped the reflection of my lips on the glass.

"Excited?" he asked, and I shrugged, trying to play off how nervous I was. Of course, Lexan knew me, and he yanked me into him, my face just under his bowtie. "Not allowed to worry, Laynie love," he told me. "This is going to be super fun."

"Yes, sir," I answered, and I felt his laugh rumble in his chest.

I paid for the outfits, considering they were thoroughly expensive, and Lexan flinched as she swiped my card. "I should have just worn jeans," he said, guilt on his face as we left the store. "Who gives a fuck about semiformal."

"Shut up," I told him, taking his hand with the one that wasn't holding a tote bag with our old clothes. "Just think of it this way: you're spending my dad's money."

He smirked at that. "Okay, he deserves it."

Waiting in Lexan's room, which was nearly identical to mine except mirrored, I put on my heels and tried to fix my hair. I'd brought a straightener, and tried my best to flatten out my unruly waves as best as I could. The heels made me as tall as Lexan, and he stood next to me, our reflections happy.

"I wonder who's going to be there," I said. "Maybe the Queen herself."

"Probably just a bunch of boring royals," he said. "We're crashing. Maybe we can start a food fight."

I glared at him, and he laughed, tapping me on the tip of my nose. "Calm down there, freckles. Just kidding."

"Hey, you're the one with all the freckles," I answered, turning to face him. I was almost at his eye level, and he put his hands on my waist, starting to sway.

"Watch them make us dance," he said, grinning. He took one of my hands and held it up by his shoulder, the other staying on my hip. "I can dance. Can you?"

"Not in the slightest," I replied, laughing. He kept us swaying, and then stepped to the side, waiting for me to match him. We went from there, and I watched my feet carefully, not wanting to scuff up his nice new shoes.

I nearly tripped when he double-stepped, and I toppled forward, not used to the heels. Of course he caught me, grinning down, and I rolled my eyes. "My hero," I said, holding the back of my wrist to my forehead like a damsel in distress.

"Don't be afraid, fair lady," he replied, another one of his strange accents lacing his words. "Thy prince has arrived."

"Oh, what would I do without my prince?" I whispered back to him, realizing how close our faces were; his eyes were an ocean of green, directly in front of mine.

"And what would I do without my princess?" he responded, his voice just as low. We stayed still for a few fevered seconds, adrenaline racing through my veins at our proximity, until another knock on the door made me jump and stumble again.

"Time to go," he said, moving back and taking my hand. "Ready, your highness?"

"As ready as you are, my liege."

He grinned and we walked to the door, and I was glad our warm fingers were tangled together. The guardian who answered the door was a different one than previously, and a lot more warm.

"I'm here to escort the guests to our banquet," he told us, and we nodded, leaving the room. He led the way, and Lexan and I followed, staring all around us at the incredible Court grounds as we walked.

"We have arrived," the guardian finally said, stopping in front of a pair of double doors at the end of a long ornate hallway. Lexan and I looked at each other, then brought our eyes forward as the doors opened for us.

The banquet hall was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen.

Filled with people in outfits very similar to ours, jewels glittering on throats and ears and wrists, was the dining room, each table draped in a red lace tablecloth with white doilies as empty placemats. There were flowers all over the place, and the smell was nearly overwhelming as I walked into it. Roses, lilies, lilacs, peonies. There was a bouquet as a centerpiece on every table, and the chairs were shining silver and plush crimson velvet. I held my breath, staring around us in wonder. I had never seen anything so magnificent in my life.

I almost didn't notice Lexan watching me again, so when I glanced his direction I was surprised to meet his jade eyes. "Impressed, are we?" he asked in a whisper, which I could just barely hear over the sounds of the orchestra playing at the end of the room.

"Very," I answered, breathless, and I took his hand, leading him to the middle of the room where many people were gathered in the center, dancing to the music and gossiping. "Now, where were we?"

"Aw, look how cute!" someone's voice called from several yards away from us, and we both turned, looking toward the doorway where the voice had originated. Just passing through the double doors, packed with muscle and beauty, was Rose Hathaway, wearing the solid black of the guardians with the royal emblem on her collar. "Ozera, right?" she asked, too loud. "I'm Rose. Rose Hathaway."


	8. Walk into Mine

"Don't look so terrified," Rose said, laughing. "No worries here."

"You're Rose Hathaway?" Lexan asked, his eyes wide, and I looked at him, smiling unconsciously at his amazement. "Wow, that's insane."

"Because I'm short or because I'm gorgeous?" she asked, tossing her hair over her shoulder jokingly. "I'm glad you guys are here. I've heard a lot about Miss Laynie." She looked at me, smiling, and I realized just how beautiful she really was. People had talked about it, but wow.

"All good things, I hope," I finally managed to say, dropping my hand from Lexan's and holding it out to her. She shook it. "Laynie Ozera."

"Nice to meet you," she said. "You have Christian's eyes. And your boyfriend is?"

"Not my boyfriend," I quickly corrected, and Lexan's trademark smirk appeared on both of their faces.

"Lexan," he said, holding out his hand how I had. Rose squinted at him, looking like she was in a memory.

"Those eyes," she said, half-smiling. "And hot, too. Ivashkov?"

"No," he answered, but didn't elaborate; we all knew the history Rose had with Victor Dashkov. How would she react to finding out how close Lexan's family had been to him?

"Alright, well," she said, breezing over the brief awkwardness, "you guys can come with me. Dinner won't start for a little while, so you can come back and talk to Christian before he and Lissa head out."

"Where are they going?" I asked, my nosiness always getting the best of me; Rose smirked again, and I hated how well she could do it like Lexan.

"Royal business only," she said, winking at us. She turned and walked toward the other end of the hall, taking us through a side exit down another ornate hallway. Eventually we came to an elevator, and the ride up was silent, the doors sliding open on floor three.

Immediately outside the elevator was what looked like some kind of expensive lounge; the floors were marble, covered in Persian rugs; the furniture was big, more crimson velvet; the walls were hung with tapestries and portraits of old royalty. "Of all the gin joints," I said to Lexan under my breath, and he grinned at me.

Seated on one of the couches was Christian, and he stood quickly, coming to me with a grin. "Hey, Laynie," he said. "Great to see you again. How's everything? Kicking some ass?"

"Definitely," Lexan answered for me, elbowing me encouragingly.

"Ah, the boyfriend," Christian said, and I felt blush rising in my cheeks.

"Not her boyfriend," Rose said, grinning like Christian, and the blush deepened.

"Oh," he answered, laughing. "Okay then. You guys enjoying Court so far?"

"It's amazing," I said, avoiding his eyes. The Ozera eyes. My father's eyes. "So fancy."

He laughed again. "That's one word for it. What have you seen?"

"We went shopping and looked around the restaurant where we're staying," I replied. "Is there like a gym around here? Or maybe a track?"

"Little addict over here," Lexan said, nudging me with his elbow again. "I've been teaching her some advanced guardian stuff. I'm betting she could even take on Queen Hathaway."

"Lexan," Rose said quietly, squinting at him. "Enver Dashkov, right?"

I looked at him and then back to Rose, searching for some kind of emotional reaction from either of them. "Yeah," he answered.

"You got out of that Bosnian school, right? Strigoi killing spree?"

I looked at my Lexan again, moving closer to him. I'd never been around him when someone had brought up his past, so I didn't know what to expect. He grabbed my hand and squeezed, a promise of safety. "That's me."

"Nice," Rose said, grinning. She held out her hand for a high five, and he answered it, laughing lightly. I could sense his discomfort, but it seemed like I was the only one. "Same."

"So I've heard."

"You're what, sixteen?"

"Yeah," he replied, and that reminded me. Lexan was a Libra, he'd told me. When was his birthday? Soon, for sure.

"That's impressive," she said, nodding. "I wouldn't mind testing out both of your skills."

"He wasn't sixteen when he left," Christian added. "Little fifteen-year-old Strigoi hunter. Better than you, Rose."

"I was hunting one specific Strigoi," Lexan corrected, and I tightened my hold on his hand. More discomfort. Couldn't they stop?

"Your mom," Rose said, solemn. "I remember the story now."

"Let's practice or something, huh?" I asked, starting to take off my heels. "No more talking about this."

The look Rose gave me was surprised and then immediately understanding, as if she had just now realized they were on a sensitive topic. "Yeah, sure," she said, starting to move back and looking around. "Here isn't a good place for it. There's a training room down a floor, come on."

We left the lounge and found ourselves in yet another hallway, entering a door that Rose had to unlock first. It was similar to the gym at the academy, but a bit smaller, and definitely far more high-tech. Dummies lined the walls, weight equipment on one side and treadmills on the other. In the center were several mats, which Rose moved to stand on quickly.

"Who's up first?" she asked, smirking like Lexan, and he volunteered, holding up his hand. I wondered if he wanted to get her back for talking about his mom. He sure looked determined as he started taking off his jacket and leather shoes, jaw tight.

Watching them spar was like watching some kind of rhythmic violent dance. One jab after another, no hits, all misses. Even Rose looked surprised; she was a seasoned guardian, at least in her twenties by now. She had been doing this her whole life. So had Lexan, though. They appeared to be a relatively even match.

"Look at that," Christian said, watching. He looked eager to join them. "Rose and the other guardians have been teaching me this sort of stuff. I'm no good, of course. It's much easier to just do this." He held his hand up and lit his fingertips on fire, and I mirrored him immediately, grinning.

"Twins," I said, and his answering smile made me a little less terrified of his eyes.

"Watch this," Christian said, smirking. I could see some of the legendary Ozera snark in his expression, and then he stomped on my bare foot. I cried out, and Lexan's attention was immediately diverted a hundred percent; Rose tackled him, and he fought her, breaking her hold and lunging toward Christian. The queen's husband had obviously not expected that to happen, and the singular thing that kept Christian's foot attached to his body was Rose's strong arms closing around Lexan from behind.

"He's messing with us," Rose said, dropping Lexan as soon as he realized I wasn't hurt. He came to me anyway, taking my hands and looking at my foot. "Give it a rest, boy. She can take care of herself."

There was something in Lexan's eyes, and I could see how much this whole situation didn't appeal to him; first being questioned by Rose and Christian about his terrifying past, which kept him up almost nightly with bad dreams; then having to spar with Rose, while Christian used me as bait. He wanted to go.

"Let me try Laynie and then we gotta bust out of here," Rose said to Christian, and the other boy nodded, moving back up against the wall again. Lexan gave me a look that said he would sweep me up and carry me out of here if I requested, but I shrugged, squeezing his hands in mine.

"You've got this," Lexan said, smirking again. He leaned down and kissed my forehead. "For good luck. Be safe."

"Yes, sir," I replied, moving to stand on the mat in front of Rose. We both ducked down, matching guardian defense positions, and she looked impressed.

"They taught you a lot at that school, huh?" she asked, grinning. "Moroi, finally learning defense."

"I'm in dhampir classes, remember," I told her, wishing I wasn't wearing a skirt. Luckily it was short and flowy enough that my mobility wasn't restricted too much. "So I know more than the average. More than Christian, probably."

She laughed and glanced at him, and I used that as my window, almost sneaking up on her. Almost.

She spun around and just barely managed to dodge my hit to her stomach, but I got her somewhat, using the moment to break her concentration and hit her again. I feinted twice and got one more hit to her chest, which was officially more than Lexan had gotten. I had a feeling he would be cheering for me if it wouldn't be distracting.

"Come on, Rose!" Christian called, but this time she kept her eyes on me, predicting my every move. Our fighting styles were very different. Hers was far more precise, much more technical. Mine was the rowdy street-fighting style that I had been picking up from Lexan.

She got a hit in my side, and holy shit, did that fucking hurt. How much strength could be packed into that tiny body? I knew I'd have a bruise, but there was very little of my body that wasn't bruised after as much practice as I endured. I dodged another one and feinted again, dipping around her fist and sending a right hook directly into the middle of her chest.

"Go Laynie!" Christian yelled, and I pictured the eyes, his eyes and my eyes and my father's eyes. The spike of fear rushed into my veins and I fought harder, faster. Rose looked surprised at the ferocity, and took advantage of my speed making me sloppy. She got me once in the stomach. Another time in my side.

We had been rotating, our fighting making us spin in circles, and I was facing Christian. The light caught his eyes. There they were, no longer in my imagination.

Lexan knew what I was going to do before my body even knew it. He leapt forward and grabbed me just as I went for Christian, his arms tight around me, and I fought him, feeling my skin start to heat up. I heard Rose's voice; it didn't sound like she was speaking English. I heard Lexan, telling me to calm down, that I was safe.

All I saw were the eyes.

—

"Yeah, we're in the room now."

"She's sleeping. I don't know."

"I'll keep you posted. Don't tell her father."

"Thank you."

I recognized my Lexan's voice immediately, realizing after several sluggish seconds that he had been on the phone. With who?

I felt the bed shift and noticed I was buried underneath the duvet, and Lexan slid in next to me, lying at my side. Without even trying, I moved into him, pressing my face into his chest. He was wearing a t-shirt. No more semiformal attire.

"You okay, Laynie?" he asked immediately, running his fingers through my hair. I shook my head.

"What's wrong?"

"I hate myself," I said, feeling tears in my eyes. "Rose freaking Hathaway. My own cousin. I still went crazy."

"You're not crazy," he said quietly, his lips in my hair. "You're hurt. You're scarred. Christian explained to Rose what could happen. So did Mikhail. She understands, and just wants you to be safe."

"Oh, so I'm like a dog that might bite if you're not careful," I said, my stomach hurting. How could I be so stupid? Why was I this fucked up?

"Laynie," he said, his voice firm. I'd never heard him this serious. "This is not your fault. This is his fucking fault." We didn't have to specify who he was. We both knew.

"Either way, it happened. I'm broken, Lex," I said, closing my leaking eyes. "I'm never going to just be normal."

"You don't want to be normal," he said, rubbing his lips in my hair. "Stop that. I'm not normal, and you think I'm tops."

I laughed. "You're right."

"You protected me," he said, breaking a minute-long silence. "I always protect you."

"What do you mean?"

"You protected me when Rose and Christian were talking about me. You changed the subject. You were taking care of me."

"You can't always be the superhero," I said, smiling. I pressed my lips into his chest. "I gotta try it sometime."

"Thank you," he said, his voice soft. "I don't know what I ever did before you, Laynie."

"Ditto."

—

I woke up in a panic, seeing the eyes, and blinked several times, almost forgetting where I was. At Court. In a huge bed. With my Lexan.

I sat up slowly, enough room in the giant bed so that I didn't jostle him awake as I crawled to the edge. My feet found the plush carpet, and I stood up, stretching. Sore, as usual.

There was a bit of light coming in the blinds, and I checked the clock. Just after nine. I went to the bathroom, brushing my teeth and hair. I was still wearing the outfit from the failed dinner, which was surely over by now. My stomach wasn't growling, though. I'd be fine.

I sat on the edge of the bed again and brushed Lexan's hair out of his face, pulling at a couple of the bronze strands. I wondered if he would cut it soon, or let it grow longer. It looked beautiful like this. But then again, he always looked beautiful.

Gazing at him, and feeling how creepy I probably was, I remembered what I had realized when we were with Rose. A Libra. It was late October; his birthday had to be soon, if it hadn't passed already. I really hoped I hadn't missed his birthday.

Scanning the room for a way to find out, I spotted his wallet on the suitcase across the room, seeing that it was his. So we'd gone back to his room. I didn't mind in the slightest.

I pulled out his license, smiling at the Bosnian. I couldn't read a bit of it, but at least the numbers were decipherable. October 20th. I blinked, putting the license back into the fold and shutting the wallet. The 20th. Wasn't that tomorrow?

Well, shit.

I stood up and quickly grabbed my own wallet, which was on the dresser. It was the weekend, right? I was sure some shops around here had to still be open. I immediately knew what I wanted to get him, and I grabbed some toilet paper out of the bathroom, folding it up and grabbing a pen. "Be back soon. Safe. –L" I wrote, putting it on the nightstand right next to him so he would see it in case he woke up.

I was right about the weekend life meaning people would still be out and about; there were just as many people milling around, if not more, as there had been when Lexan and I had explored earlier. I went first to the shop where Lexan and I had gotten the clothes. The woman was really nice, and I was sure she would help me.

From there, I went to the first store she told me about, buying Lexan's present right away. Next came the more difficult part, and one of her suggestions was closed. The other one, thankfully, was open until eleven, and the shopkeeper agreed to finish it for me for just a slightly larger cost. He boxed the present up and put a huge green bow on it, and I hugged him without thinking, grinning. "Thank you so much," I told him, and he blushed and nodded. He was a little foreign man, and I wondered if he was from somewhere close to Bosnia.

Lexan was still sleeping when I got back to the room, and I was glad; it would have been hard to sneak in the present. Tucking it under the giant bed, I changed my clothes and crawled back into bed with him. His arms circled me immediately, and I closed my eyes, sighing with contentment.

—

"Wake up, dollface," I told Lexan, touching his cheek lightly. The sun was gone from the window, and the clock read eight-thirty; I wasn't sure if there was something planned for our day at Court today, but I definitely wanted to give Lexan his present already. "Lexan, darling."

He opened his eyes and blinked, stretching his arms out above him. "Laynie, why are you on top of me?"

"Happy birthday," I said excitedly, leaning down and kissing his nose. He chuckled and sighed.

"How'd you find out?"

"Creeped your license."

"Ah, I should have hidden it."

"I got you a present."

"This is present enough," he said, reaching up and twisting a piece of my hair around his finger. "Plus you bought me things yesterday."

"Yeah, but today is your birthday," I replied, sitting up straight. "Wakey wakey. Should I have brought you breakfast in bed?"

He laughed. "That would be nice."

"Alright," I began, climbing off of him and dropping to the ground. I fished out the present, careful to keep the bow intact. I lay it on the bed next to him and plopped down beside it, grinning. "Open it."

He put his hand over his face and then groaned, sitting up quickly. "It's too early for this."

"You're only seventeen once."

"Ugh, I'm old."

I laughed hard, rolling my eyes. "Not quite yet, love."

He glanced at me with a smirk, and I remembered him telling me once he loved when I used pet names on him. He pulled the box onto his lap and untied the bow carefully, peeling the tape off the wrapping paper with painstaking slowness.

"Lexan Dashkov, I swear to god," I warned, and he laughed, finishing unwrapping it much more quickly and then tossing the lid off the unlabeled box. He reached inside and pulled out the book, squinting.

"This is?"

I laughed. "A sketchbook."

It was bound in black leather, two hundred pages, and even had a little lip in the back to hold pencils or pens. I knew Lexan didn't really use color in his art, just black ink. Otherwise I would have gotten him colored pencils too.

"Open it," I told him, scooting closer. Now came the complicated part. He tipped open the front cover, and immediately grinned. At the bottom of the leather was a gold engraving, which I had waited nearly an hour for.

"'Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world,'" he read, laughing and then looking up at the ceiling. "Laynie, you didn't finish the quote."

"Sure did," I told him, and reached for the book, turning it over. On the inside of the back cover was the rest of the engraving.

"'Walk into mine,'" he finished in a whisper, staring at the words for several seconds before looking at me. I could see real sincerity in his eyes, and how touched he was. "Thank you, Laynie. So much."

"You gotta do what I say," I told him, pointing at the words. "Walk on into my gin joint, bud."

I felt his laugh in my chest, reaching for him and pulling him to me. He was warm, and I pushed the box and book out of the way, climbing onto his lap. We sat like that for a long time, arms around each other, my legs circling his waist. I breathed him in, and out, and back in again, kissing his neck and then pulling back to look at him. "Happy birthday, Lexan."

"Thank you." He grinned, glancing at the book. "Was it expensive?"

"Don't worry about it," I reminded him, and he rolled his eyes again, shaking his head. He tapped my back, nodding toward the bathroom.

"Come on, let's get ready," he said. "Gotta go have a birthday breakfast. You think we can get it free again if I show them my ID?"

I shrugged, starting to climb off his lap. Apparently he wasn't ready to let me go, tightening his arms.

"Hold on," he said, hugging me again. He kissed my neck and then my cheek and then my forehead, spreading kisses all over my face down to my chest. "I'm really grateful for you, Laynie."

I laughed and pushed him away, falling back onto the bed. "You're gunna have to draw me now."

"Oh, you don't think I already have?" he asked, and I wrinkled my brow, glaring.

"You didn't tell me?"

"Naw."

"Why didn't you show me?"

He smirked and shrugged. "It was on notebook paper. Now that I have a big ol' official sketchbook, however," he said, throwing the blanket off of him so it covered my face. "I'll draw you all kinds of ways."

I laughed, sitting up and moving the blanket aside. "Draw me like your French girls, Jack."

"Hey, if you wanna do some nude posing," he suggested, wagging his brows, and I rolled my eyes, throwing a punch at his side that he dodged quickly.

As I began to stand, I heard a noise. A persistent knocking, like on a door. But not this one. "Lex?" I asked, glancing at him, and he looked equally confused.

"The hell is that?" He moved to the door, looking out the peephole. "It sounds like someone's knocking on the door next to ours. Your room?" he asked.

"Maybe, but you'd think if it were guardians again that they'd come here, too," I reasoned, standing up fully and putting my ear to the door. There was nothing, and the knocking stopped. Then it started again.

"Weird," I said. "Maybe we should go out and see who it is?"

"No," Lexan replied, shaking his head. "Just wait."

So we waited. I wanted to shower, to do something besides waiting around, but I couldn't get my clothes out of my room. The knocking stopped after another minute, and Lexan crept to the door to look through the peephole as the person walked away. "I think they went the other direction," he said. I shoved past him and stood on my tiptoes, looking around the distorted hallway. Against better judgment, I unlocked our door and started to slowly pull it open. Lexan moved to stop me, but I think both of our curiosities got the better of us.

I stuck my head out of the crack I'd made, and froze.

I recognized his gait. His brown jacket. His slicked back, perfectly styled pitch black hair. The ring glittering on his ring finger.

"Laynie?" Lexan whispered, and I quickly forced him back into the room, jumping with him and closing the door. I latched both locks, trying to keep breathing. _Lexan will keep me safe. Lexan will keep me safe._

"Laynie, did you know him?" he asked me, and I slowly nodded.

"Yeah," I whispered. _Breathe, Laynie. In and out, like the waves_. "That's my father."


	9. Moonlight

"Your father?" Lexan asked, instant anger in his voice; he moved toward the door, and I blocked it, feeling tears creeping into my eyes.

"Stop," I said, my shaking fingers clinging to the locked doorknob. "Don't go out there. Don't go out there."

"Laynie," Lexan said, realizing the effect seeing him had had on me, and he pulled me to his chest. His arms tightened as he felt how much I was trembling, and I suddenly felt suffocated, not safe; I pushed him away and crossed the room to the balcony, flinging the doors open and stepping out into the fresh air. I was fully sobbing now, unable to breathe, and Lexan was behind me, but he appeared clueless about how to comfort me. He took my hand, and I covered my face with the other one. He didn't need to see how bad I looked sobbing.

"How did he know," I pleaded to no one, looking up at the sky. I could see the moon, some stars, but nothing was calming. Why wasn't it cotton candy?

"If I find out who told him—"

"Stop," I said, shaking my head but keeping my eyes glued on the moon. I wished I was that far away. My dad would never find me there. "I don't think it's anyone's fault. I don't…" I sighed. "Whoever he asked had to tell him. He's my parent."

"Still. We're in Christian's hunting ground. Shouldn't he have found some way to keep that guy out if he knew what he'd done to you?"

"He doesn't know," I admitted. "No one has any proof. I haven't specifically told anyone."

Lexan's exasperated sigh urged me into him, and I moved into his chest, no longer feeling suffocated in his warm arms. "I wish I could take you away, Laynie," he said into my hair. "Somewhere you would always be safe."

"I don't know if a place like that exists," I whispered back. The tears had stopped coming. "Come on, let's get ready."

We showered in separate rooms – Lexan in mine, and me in Lexan's – and he brought my suitcase over with him after he was finished. I made him cover his eyes and dragged it into the bathroom with me, picking out high-waisted black jeans and a mint green crop top with a lace back. I figured I might need mobility, should my safety be threatened again today.

"You're such a model," Lexan said, reclining on the bed as I left the bathroom. I sat on the edge beside him and put on socks and Oxfords, licking my finger and rubbing at a scuff. "Oh my god, gross."

"Those were very contradictory statements," I said, laughing. He sat up quickly and took my face in one of his hands, cocking his head to the side.

"That's a nice laugh," he said, referencing something he'd told me a long time ago. "I'm happy to hear it."

"How am I like a model?"

"Haven't you seen Top Model? All those girls are tall and skinny and wear really fancy clothes."

I laughed again. "Um, thank you?"

"Bosnia's Next Top Model is very different than America's, though," he said. "No Tyra."

"Well then, why even watch it?" I asked him, and he laughed, too. This was nice. Safe. No worries in our little bubble here.

"Lexan," I said, putting my hand over his on my cheek. "Don't leave me today."

"Never," he replied immediately.

"I'm not kidding," I said. "He's here somewhere. You can't leave me alone." I paused. "I mean, I guess I could defend myself, but what if I freeze? What if I get too scared—"

He put his finger over my lips. "Gotcha, babe," he replied. "That's the best way to spend my birthday, anyway. Never leaving my Laynie's side."

"I call you my Lexan sometimes, too," I said, grinning. "What, do we own each other now?"

"Yep," he said, pulling up his sleeve dramatically. "See, right there, it says 'property of one Miss Eleyn Ozera." He wrinkled his brow. "What's your middle name?"

"Klara," I answered, saying it the Russian way my father always did when he was angry. "It means clear."

"What does Eleyn mean?"

"I don't know," I said, laughing. "He just always used to tell me to keep a clear head."

"Your name kind of rhymes," he added. "Eleyn Klara Ozera."

"It's not Klair-ra," I said, making fun of the English way he said it. "Klah-ra."

"Klah-ra," he enunciated.

"You speak Bosnian, shouldn't you be up to speed with foreign languages?" I asked, and he laughed, jumping toward me and pinning me down on the bed, my legs still dangling off the side.

"Better watch it, punk," he growled, a grin on his face, and I rolled my eyes, twisting us around so I was on top of him.

"And if I don't?"

Another knock sounded on the door, and I froze, whipping around to look at it. This time it was on Lexan's room, not mine, and I scrambled off of him, backing up toward the balcony.

"I'm not going to answer it if you don't want," he said slowly, holding out his hands to me. "Okay?"

"Answer it," I said. "It could be a guardian." I moved down without even meaning to, crouching in a defensive position how I'd always been taught. I could defend myself. I wasn't a punching bag anymore.

"Are you sure?"

I nodded, and Lexan obeyed, walking to the door and looking through the peephole first. He pulled it open slowly and sighed in relief at the black-clad guardian who stood there, smiling.

"Morning," he said. "I'm here to take you guys to a special location as a gift from the Queen and her husband."

"Special location?" I asked, and Lexan glanced back at me, looking equally incredulous.

"It's a secret," the guardian said, smirking, and I glanced at Lexan again. What kind of secret?

"Well, we might as well," Lexan said, holding out his hand for me, and I moved forward and took it, letting the guardian lead us out of the housing building through the Court. We approached a giant marble building, older Moroi women leaving in pairs or one at a time, and my eyebrows rose. What the hell was this place?

The guardian motioned us through the doorway first, and we entered a lobby far less intimidating than the outside of the building. The smells of incense, oils, and nail salon supplies greeted us, as well as dim lighting and plush blue couches on either sides of us. At the front desk sat a young Moroi man, who put down the phone as we entered. "Welcome to Moonlight Spa. Do you have an appointment?"

"The Queen sent orders here earlier this morning," the guardian answered, and he seemed nowhere near as confused as Lexan and I must have looked. "Reservations for two."

"Ah yes, the couple's bundle," the receptionist answered, nodding. I met Lexan's eyes, and he looked like he wanted to laugh. "They can come back right away."

"Thank you," the guardian answered, and then he was gone, leaving me and Lexan standing cluelessly in the middle of the lobby.

"We'll take the two of you back this way," the Moroi said, and motioned us toward a curtain behind the desk. Lexan was still holding onto my hand, and I let him pull me after the receptionist, through the curtain into the main area of the spa. "You're going to need to take your shoes off and put these on," the man told us, holding out two pairs of pink cloth slippers.

"You're joking," Lexan said, but the receptionist's face remained impassive. So we followed directions, putting our shoes in cubbies off to the side of the entrance.

As we passed through the front, we saw several different in-ground hot tubs full of steaming water and what looked like mud to me, older Moroi men and women in bathing suits relaxing in them. We passed massage tables and reclining chairs where people lay with actual cucumber slices over their eyes, and I elbowed Lexan when he snorted with laughter.

After the main area, we turned down a hallway, and entered a door reading "The Couple's Suite" in red script. Lexan and I couldn't stop exchanging incredulous glances. Was this really happening, or was it a dream?

The room was as dim as the entrance had been, a table full of burning candles and incense off to the side filling the room with a fragrance just barely too strong for my Moroi senses. I imagined it probably smelled fine to Lexan.

"You can get undressed and lay on the tables," the man said, motioning to two massage tables that stood about a yard apart from each other in the middle of the room. There was another door leading off to the left, and I was assuming that was another part of this "couple's bundle." The man nodded at us with a smile and then left, and Lexan and I burst out laughing together, glancing around the bizarre setup.

"Are you actually getting undressed?" I asked Lexan as he started tugging off his shirt, and he grabbed a robe off the back of the door, grinning.

"Hell yeah," he said. "I've never had a massage in my life."

"Oh my god," I said, rolling my eyes.

"What, have you?"

"No," I admitted, glancing at the other robe that was meant for me. "But I'm not getting butt ass naked with you."

"Yet," he said, grinning, and I rolled my eyes again. He laughed loudly, pulling his shirt all the way off and setting it on an empty table in the corner of the room. "Come on, Laynie, live a little."

"Well we're at least keeping our unders on," I said.

"Unders," he said, laughing again.

"Lexan, I swear to god."

"Fine, fine." He held up his hands in surrender, and the dim lighting accented the lines of his stomach, the V dipping into his jeans. I covered my eyes quickly, not willing to deal with his relentless jokes if he caught me staring.

"I'm not naked just yet, Laynie love," he said, and I could picture his laughing grin even without seeing him. I heard him unbuckle his belt and then the clink of it dropping to the floor with his pants, and then he folded them up and placed them with his shirt on the table. "Okay, robe on."

"I didn't hear it go on."

He laughed, and the hiss of the fabric pulling over his skin sounded shortly after. My stomach dipped as I wished I was feeling his skin like that, dragging my fingertips over his arms, his chest, down that V…

 _Control yourself, Eleyn._

I uncovered my eyes slowly and pointed at his table, and he laughed and moved to sit on it, lying on his back and closing his eyes. I tugged my shirt off and put it over his face, quickly pulling my pants off and lunging for the robe. After it was tied tightly, I put my clothes over with his, lying on my own table.

"This is just enough space where we can still hold hands," he said, laughing, and he reached across to me. I rolled my eyes, but took his hand anyway, linking our fingers together over the expanse between our tables.

"Wonder why they gave us the couple's suite," I thought out loud, glancing at my Lexan. His eyes were closed, the candlelight casting his eyelashes in shadow on his freckled cheeks.

"Anyone can see that you're in love with me, Laynie," he pointed out, very nonchalantly, and I laughed, dropping his hand.

"You just lost your privileges."

"Not the privilege of getting a massage with you, though."

"Oh my god," I groaned again, listening to the sounds of his chuckling without looking at him.

The door to the room opened, and immediately so did my eyes, my body tensing. It was only two masseuses, their smiles serene and their scrubs reading "Moonlight Spa" on the breast pockets. It was a man and a woman, and they were both beautiful. Neither of them were Moroi.

"We ready to get started?" the woman asked, coming to Lexan's table. "We keeping our robes on?"

"Hell nope," Lexan said, and without warning he untied the front of his robe, sitting up and dropping it on the floor. He was wearing plaid boxers, emerald green plaid. I laughed and covered my eyes.

"And what about you?" the woman asked me. "My name is Allesse, I'll be one of your spa specialists for today. There's no judgment here. And I'm sure your husband has no problems with that body of yours." She winked at me, and Lexan's laugh was probably audible to the people at the front desk.

"Come on, dear," Lexan said, smirking.

"Oh my god," I repeated, standing up and dropping the robe. Lexan's eyes widened immediately, taking me in, and I flipped him off, climbing back up onto the table so he didn't have long to stare. "Lie back down, my love. Time to get massages."

"Just admiring your beauty, darling."

"Oh, young love," Allesse sighed. "Your masseuse is Allan. We hope you enjoy your time with us today."

Allesse turned on some "relaxing" spa music, lighting impossibly more candles. She had a script that she recited for us as we received our massages, talking about our breathing, about serenity and love and a bunch of other cheesy things that Lexan and I normally would have laughed at. Instead, we kept our breathing in check the way she instructed and stayed silent throughout the massage. Eventually, we had to turn over, and we met eyes when we did so. His smirk made me grin, and he winked at me.

The massage altogether was actually pretty relaxing. Allesse and Allan knew exactly what they were doing, and while it was a bit creepy at first to have some strange muscular man I didn't know putting his hands all over me, it ended up being worth it. I felt like I'd taken the best nap of my life.

"Alright, now we're going to leave so you can put your robes back on," Allesse said, wiping some oil off her hands and blowing out a couple of the candles. "When you're ready, go through that door for the rest of the treatment."

"There's more?" Lexan asked, and she smiled, nodding.

"Your day's not over yet." She kept her professional smile on and disappeared through the other door with Allan. I turned to Lexan, sitting up.

"I still feel like I'm dreaming," I said, forgetting for a moment that I was still half-naked; his eyes combed over me once and then shot up to the ceiling, color rising in his cheeks. He probably felt bad about looking at me without my permission. I stood up quickly and reached for my robe on the door, then decided to have fun.

"Oh look, Lexan," I said, and he glanced over at me. "I think there's a quarter on the ground." I bent forward dramatically, and he laughed loudly, slapping his hands over his eyes.

"Why, Laynie, you skank," he said, and I laughed with him, pulling my robe over my shoulders and tying it in front. I pulled his robe down too, my stance wobbly. This massage hadn't helped with my guardian training.

"Here," I told him, walking to him and handing him his robe. Without thinking, I hugged him as soon as his feet hit the floor, burying my face in his oily chest. He tossed the robe aside and wrapped his arms around me immediately in response, kissing the top of my bun.

"What's this for?" he murmured.

"Just hugging my husband," I answered. "Is that a crime?"

His tiny laugh made me smile against his skin. "Sorry, wife," he said. "You know, married couples have usually gone on dates by the time they get massages together."

"You saying you want to go on a date?"

"Only if you want to."

I looked up at him, rolling my eyes but grinning anyway. "I'm a lucky lady, Lexan."

"And I'm a lucky guy, Laynie." He took one arm from around me and rubbed my cheek with his thumb, probably wiping off massage oil. "Especially because of this free massage. We should see what else Christian can get us for free."

I laughed, nodding. "Definitely. Maybe a free date."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

He put his robe back on and tied it loosely, leaving too much of his bare chest out in the open for me to try not to stare at. We went through the doors into a room similar to the one we had come through, a hot tub in the ground and two massage chairs side by side. There were tubs of water at the feet, and I realized they were the kind of chairs from nail salons that people used for pedicures. Were we getting that kind of spa treatment too?

"Now, if you feel comfortable, feel free to relax in the hot tub," Allesse said, sitting at a table on the right side of the room. There were also two tables, and I grinned. Manicures, too. "Without clothing, of course. No cotton allowed."

"Oh, my, god," Lexan whispered, and I laughed, taking his hand.

"Want to skinny dip in the hot tub with me, honey?"

His eyes widened. "Only if you want to."

"Fat chance," I whispered in reply, and his smirk crinkled the corners of his green eyes.

"If you would like, we can get started with the pedicures," Allesse said. "I'd be happy to take care of them for you."

Lexan and I nodded, climbing into the chairs, and there was a remote where Allan began pressing buttons. The chair hummed and started its own version of a back massage, which couldn't compare with our masseuses. It still felt good.

Allan took care of my feet while Allesse took care of Lexan's, and he even conceded to have his nails painted clear. I picked out a bright green color to match my Lexan's eyes, and he grinned.

"It'll look like Christmas when I light my fingertips on fire," I said, and his answering smile nearly made my heart stop.

It was basically a second massage, but just on our feet. And after it was over, they took us to the manicure tables and gave us hand massages. I didn't know if I had ever felt so pampered in my life.

They gave us the option of relaxing in the hot tub for a while after, which most couples usually did, but Lexan and I decided against it. We didn't have bathing suits, and while I was sure he was eager to see me skinny dip, I wasn't exactly in the mood.

They led us to the front desk after we got dressed and the receptionist told us everything had been paid for, including a complementary gift basket. It was a small wicker one, like a picnic basket, and I thanked them all graciously before me and Lexan left together, holding hands.

"What's in it?" he asked as we walked back toward our building; as nice-smelling as the oils were, I wanted to rinse them off of me ASAP. "Check."

I stopped in place and opened the basket, laughing at the sight of a folded red and white picnic blanket at the top of it. I pulled it aside and found a bottle of champagne, along with containers delicately folded in handkerchiefs labeled "Moonlight Spa." "Oh my god, they literally gave us a picnic."

"Who needs showers," Lexan said, his grin contagious. "Come on. This can be our first date." Grabbing my hand again, he started pulling me off the sidewalk toward the middle of the grounds. We found a small little square full of benches and trees, along with several Moroi walking around, guardians trailing behind them. Couples sat intertwined on the benches; children laughed and squealed as they chased each other. Lexan kept pulling, taking us off into a corner, stopping just under a huge tree.

"You know, there's no sun, so the tree really isn't necessary," I told him, shaking my head, and he just smirked, taking the picnic basket from me and putting it on the ground. He pulled the blanket out and shook it, spreading it carefully on the grass and then plopping down onto it. I followed suit, rolling my eyes at the ridiculousness of all of this.

I was careful in filling our tiny plastic champagne flutes, grateful that there was also a bottle of sparkling water in the basket. I wasn't a fan of alcohol in any form. It always made me dizzy, and I was already not feeling as alert as usual after that massage.

"I want to draw you right now," Lexan said, bringing the flute to his lips and then stopping. "Look at your cheeks. You're glowing."

"I think that's oil," I joked, but his face remained serious.

"I should have brought the sketchbook with us."

"Do you want me to go get it?"

"No," he said immediately. "You're not going out there alone."

It was then that I remembered who else was sharing the Court with us today. I'd almost forgotten about him until just now. I wondered where he was, what he was doing; maybe Christian had actually been the one to tell my father I was here. Was that why they had gifted us with the spa visit? Because he felt guilty for sending my abuser right to the room where I was staying?

"It'll be okay, Lexan," I said, not sure where my confidence was coming from. "I've yet to see a finished sketch of me. Let me go get it."

"Laynie…"

"I'll run. We run all the time. It'll be fine." I tried to force as much comfort into my smile as possible, and Lexan finally sighed.

"Fine, we'll go together."

"No, you have to stay with our stuff. Either I'm staying here alone with the blanket, out in the open, or I'm going to the room."

He didn't look happy one bit, and I frowned, missing the happiness that had been on his face moments prior. "Come on, Lex. Five minutes. If I'm not back, you can come looking for me."

"Deal. Be safe," he said, holding out his hand. I took it and shook, kissing the top of it.

"Gotcha," I laughed, standing up quickly. I wasn't that dizzy, not at the moment. I'd only taken one sip of champagne before filling up my glass with sparkling water.

 _You'll be fine_ , I told myself, starting off at a steady jog toward our rooms. I made it up the stairs quickly and hastily unlocked Lexan's door, leaving it cracked as I rifled through his things. I found the sketchbook on the bed, still open. "Of all the gin joints," I said to myself, smiling.

"Eleyn," came a stern voice from behind me, the door creaking open. Immediately, I was frozen, my eyes falling closed. No. It couldn't be. Why hadn't I stayed at the blanket? He knew where my room was. He knew I was here. What had I done?


	10. Tangled

I stayed perfectly still. Maybe if I didn't move, he would think I was a statue.

I heard him take another step into the room, moving closer to me. "Perhaps I was given the wrong room number this morning. I attempted to come see you. But no one answered the door."

I still didn't respond, and that angered him. "Look at me when I speak to you," he ordered. Immediately, I unfroze, turning around and meeting the eyes. Those were the eyes I was so scared of, the eyes I vigorously avoided, the eyes I could never ever see. And here they were.

"I called the school after I received a credit card bill full of purchases made here," he said. "I was informed that her highness and Lord Ozera had so graciously invited you to spend the weekend at Court with a friend. In fact, I was at first impressed you were spending money on clothing to attend prestigious Court events. My daughter, finally working her way into politics."

One more step toward me. There was nowhere for me to go; the bed was behind me, against my legs. Every cell in my body was screaming at me to run. "However, what displeased me was your disregard toward informing me about these things. In fact, I am very unhappy that I haven't heard from my daughter at all since you've been at school. I wrote you that letter. I told you that I expected regular updates."

"I – I didn't read it," I said, and then wished I hadn't spoken. _Don't interrupt, Laynie_ , my mother's worried voice said in my mind. _Never interrupt your father_.

He continued like I hadn't spoken, anger lighting up the ice in his eyes. "Do you know how many people I had to call to find out where you were staying? And then they don't even give me the right room number. Dhampirs," he spat, gritting his teeth. His jawline was in shadow from the lamp just behind me, on the nightstand. "Useless."

"I've been doing well in school," I said, my voice small, so small. How could I have ever believed myself capable of standing up to him? "They moved me into advanced defense classes. Ms. Carmack says I've basically mastered the elemental training they give to the seniors. I'm ahead of everyone." I was pleading with him, pleading for his pride, pleading for his anger to go away. One more step toward me.

"How very proud that would have made me," he said, "had I been informed of it earlier."

"I'm sorry," I told him, begging; one more step. Lexan's sketchbook fell to the floor at my feet, and I flinched, but my father did not.

"Whose things are these?" he asked suddenly, his eyes moving behind me to Lexan's suitcase on the bed. I had never wanted Lexan more in my entire life than I did at that moment. I would have given up the time he had saved my life in the woods, if only he could be with me here.

"My – my friend's," I answered. "The friend I brought with me to Court."

"A boy's things?" he asked me. One more step. "You're sharing a room with a boy?"

I didn't know what to say, my eyes falling to Lexan's sketchbook on the floor, having landed open. _Walk into mine_ , I read.

"Look at me when I speak to you," my father ordered again. "I shouldn't have to tell you more than once." One more step covered the distance between us, and his hand moved back. I froze, unable to respond in any way. I closed my eyes, letting his fist strike me. Once, again. Again.

—

"Laynie! Wake up!"

"Stay with me Laynie, baby, stay with me. Be okay."

"Laynie, please."

" _Laynie_!"

—

What woke up me up was a scraping noise. Over and over, hiss hiss hiss, scrape scrape. I wondered if someone was moving something across the floor, or filing their nails. No, those weren't right. I couldn't place the noise. Scrape, scrape.

The second thing I knew was that I was in pain. Everywhere. My ribs, my chest, my face especially. One of my legs. My arm. I felt tightly bound, as if I was tied up or wrapped in a blanket. Judging by how warm I was, it was probably a blanket.

Scrape, scrape, hiss.

What was that sound?

It took vigorous effort to peel my eyes open. They burned immediately, and I flinched, bringing my arm up to shield them from the light. My body spiked with pain at the movement, and I cried out.

"Laynie, baby," someone breathed, jumping to my side. "It's okay. You're safe now. Come here."

I was pulled into arms as familiar as my own, and I sighed in relief, digging my fingers into Lexan's chest. The sobs began before I was even aware of them, and he held me tightly, almost too tight. It was okay. That pain was welcome.

"What's the noise," I asked him, and felt that my bottom lip was swollen. I loosened one of my arms to reach up and feel it, flinching. Busted. "The noise."

"What noise, baby?" he asked me, moving back to look down at me. His eyes were terrified, and I could guess why; had taking a beating caused me to lose my mind?

I imitated the scrape, and he laughed in relief. He reached behind him to the chair he had been sitting in, holding up the sketchbook and a pencil. So that had been the noise. His pencil on paper.

"What were you drawing?"

"You," he said quickly, sitting back down in his chair.

"No," I said, shaking my head. He looked confused, until I started moving over, trying to make room for him on my bed.

"Careful," he pleaded. "Be okay, Laynie."

"Come on." I patted the space I'd made, pressing my sore body up against the rails on the right side of the mattress. We were in what looked like a hospital room, probably the infirmary at Court. He obliged carefully, fitting himself in beside me and flipping his sketchbook open.

It was like someone had taken a photograph of me and edited it to look hand-drawn. His pencil had shaped my face perfectly; from my eyebrows to the curve of my busted lip, I could immediately see what he'd created. Me, in my hospital bed, cheek bruised, lip swollen. A cut above my forehead. Thin finger-shaped lines on my neck. More lines like that on one of my wrists. The other wrist bound in bandages. The blanket formed tightly around my body.

"What happened here?" I asked, touching my ribs gently. It felt like someone had glued cardboard to my torso.

"Some fractures," he answered. His voice was a mix of angry and depressed. "They wrapped you up for now. They said there's not much else they could do to let those heal."

"What else?"

Lexan's face closed down, all anger now. "He did a lot of damage. They said you're going to be out of practice for at least a month."

"No," I said, shaking my head. Pain spiked behind my eyes as I did so, but I didn't care. "I can't be out of practice. I can't."

"You need to heal," he insisted.

"No she doesn't," came a voice from outside the room, and the door was pushed open, Rose Hathaway strutting inside. Following her was Christian Ozera, and a group of guardians, standing around two people. One of the guardians was Mikhail, I realized. His friendly face was drawn, worried.

"Excuse me?" Lexan asked, and I felt his entire body tense; was he planning on fighting all of these people?

"We brought friends," Rose said, smirking like my Lexan always did. The guardians parted, and I saw a man and a woman standing side-by-side. The woman was smiling, serene; the man looked worried. He couldn't be more than seventeen or eighteen.

"What is this?" Lexan demanded.

"Spirit practice," Christian said, grinning. "Have you ever seen spirit in action?"

I wasn't paying attention to their banter; instead, I was focused on the two Moroi strangers. The woman looked somewhat familiar to me. Her auburn hair was twisted up into a messy bun, her dress made of floral silk; her eyes were bright blue, but the safe kind. Not like Christian's. Her smile was warm, friendly, and she noticed me staring. "Hello, Eleyn," she said, moving toward my bed. Lexan leapt off, blocking her way, and the guardians shot forward, Mikhail especially. "Stop," she told all of them calmly. "He's fine."

"What happened to you, Laynie?" Christian asked, all of a sudden; all eyes were on me, inquisitive. I tried desperately to think of some story, but couldn't.

"I fell."

Lexan snorted. "Laynie, you can tell them the truth."

"I am," I insisted, my voice weak. I reached for him, for my safety, taking his warm hand. "I fell."

"Laynie," Rose said, softly. "Why didn't you kick his ass?"

"Whose?" I asked, not meeting anyone's eyes anymore. "There was no one else in the room. I tripped."

"She's lying because she's scared," Mikhail told them. "We all know who did this to her."

"There's nothing we can do for her if she won't admit it. There are no security tapes, nothing incriminating him," Rose pointed out.

"What about the fucking choke marks on her neck?" Lexan demanded. "I want to kill him. I'm going to kill him."

"Stop," the Moroi woman said. "Come here, Aidan."

The young Moroi man moved forward, toward his partner, and I watched them in confusion, still clinging to Lexan. "My name is Sonya," she told me, still smiling. "This is Aidan. We are both spirit users. Rose suggested that we allow Aidan to practice his healing powers, and what better person to use them on than someone in need of protection and help as much as you are?"

"What?" Lexan asked. "There are more spirit users?"

"Aidan is not one that is known," Sonya said. I knew exactly who she was now – Sonya Karp. She had been Strigoi before. She was married to Mikhail, the loved one of his who had turned dark. She was our link, just as my aunt and uncle were. "He only very recently discovered his abilities. So, how do you feel about this, Laynie?" So it was Laynie now, huh?

"Go for it," I said, laughing until it jolted a spike of pain in my ribs. I grimaced, and Lexan moved closer to me, gently taking my face in his free hand.

"You don't have to agree if you don't want this."

"What's the harm?" I asked, shrugging. It hurt to move at all. " _I_ never got to practice my magic on actual people."

"Because you would have lit them on fire," Christian pointed out, laughing. "Nice try though, Laynie."

"Her injuries aren't extensive enough to affect him that much," Rose told us. "Especially because he's used hardly any of his spirit. He has to learn somehow, right?"

"I don't want to hurt him," I said, wrinkling my brow. Wasn't it bad for spirit users to use their magic? Didn't it make them go crazy?

"No worries, Laynie," Aidan said, speaking for the first time. He was definitely on the younger side; his black hair was very tidy, his eyes dark brown like Rose's. There was a dimple in his chin, his jawline striking. "I just want to help you." His voice was so comforting, so safe. I had heard about spirit charisma, but I'd never seen it. How did I trust him after only hearing him say two sentences?

Aidan moved closer to me and Lexan, and I dropped Lexan's hand, holding mine out to Aidan. Lexan grimaced, touching my shoulder, and I leaned against his touch. "It'll be fine," I told him. I didn't know how I knew that it would be fine, but I knew.

"That's what you said when you went to get the sketchbook," he reminded me. Well, he had me there.

"Give him some room," Sonya instructed, and everyone except Lexan and Aidan moved away from my bed. Aidan sat on the edge next to me, and his grip was warm, safe; he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

It took several seconds for me to feel any different. But when he exhaled one more time, it seemed like the magic spread through me as he breathed.

Everything was warm, tingly; my arms, my face, my ribs. I closed my eyes, scrunching up my face at the sensation, but I couldn't feel anything negative; it was all safe, healing. It took only seconds for him to let me go, and we opened our eyes together. His smile was dazzling.

"Laynie," Lexan breathed, and I looked up at him, no longer in any pain. His grin matched mine, and I reached up for him. He hugged me tightly, kissing my cheek and my neck. "My Laynie."

"Holy shit," Rose said, laughing. "The kid did it! Lissa's gunna die."

"How do you feel?" Lexan asked me, pulling back to look at my face. He touched my lip, and it didn't hurt at all. No part of me did.

"Healed," I said, grinning, and glanced at Aidan. "Thank you so much."

"Thank you for your trust," he replied, standing up. "I feel fine, Sonya."

"Good to hear," she said, taking his face in her hands, and I could see her pride. Everything in this room was too emotional for me at the moment. I blinked back tears and hugged my Lexan again, burying my face in his chest.

"You smell like Moonlight Spa," I told him, and his laugh rumbled against my cheek.

"We need showers."

"And you also need to get on a plane," Christian said. "We don't know if he's here still."

I remained silent. I was saving my questions for when Lexan and I were alone.

"What's going to happen?" Lexan asked, his anger back in his voice. I pulled back, reaching up and touching the lines in his brow. I didn't like seeing him angry.

"Laynie is sixteen. There's not much we can do unless she tells us what really happened." Christian looked pointedly at me, and I glanced away. Those eyes.

"I did," I whispered, and Lexan's arm around me tightened.

"As long as he leaves her alone, we'll be fine for the time being. The guardians on campus would tell us if he paid her a visit. And she's coming to Bosnia with me for Thanksgiving. We might need royal permission for that, because I doubt he'll be giving it."

I didn't speak, but a smile pulled at my lips. If Lexan said so.

"Do they even celebrate Thanksgiving in Bosnia?" Rose asked.

"No, but my family does," he said. "Especially since I missed it last year."

No one said anything to that, and the group of guardians and Moroi filed out of the small room. Christian and Rose said their goodbyes, and then Lexan and I were finally alone again. I took one look at him and burst into another round of sobbing, and he just held me, the scent of the oil still on his skin.

Lexan and I didn't shower, for fear of being separated again when my father was possibly still at Court. I wondered how they didn't know where he was; didn't people have to sign in and out? Had he even signed in? Regardless, we took no risks. Several guardians retrieved our things from our rooms and loaded them onto a plane. Within an hour, we were en route back to Montana. I had never been more relieved to be going back to St. Vladimir's.

I fell asleep on the way, and awoke to that same scraping, peeking out one eye and seeing another sketch of me forming itself on Lexan's paper. I was sleeping on the plane seat, hair a mess, eyes closed, cheeks rosy. I had the sudden urge to look at his face, to see the concentration, but I couldn't do that without giving away that I was awake. And then he wouldn't be concentrated anymore.

We got back in the Academy's evening, and there were more than enough students roaming the grounds. It was Saturday night, after all. Court guardians took our things to our rooms for us, although after being healed I felt perfectly capable of carrying my own bag. I remembered that the letter was still in it. I couldn't decide whether I wanted to read it or not.

Eyes followed Lexan and me as we walked with each other toward my dorm, where he was planning on dropping me off; we both knew I was just going to go back to his room after showering, but I wasn't one to waste even one second. His sketchbook was tucked under his arm, his fingers tangled with mine.

We got to my door and it burst open; I flinched, immediately moving behind Lexan. It was Alex, her eyes crazed, her stance defensive. "Laynie, my god," she breathed. "We all thought you were dead. We thought you got put in jail or something."

"Alive, definitely," I said, moving out from behind Lexan. "Not that it would matter to you either way."

Her eyes registered hurt, but I ignored it entirely, turning to my Lexan. "I'll see you in twenty," I told him, and he nodded, glancing at Alex again. I could tell he was nervous to leave me alone. "There's only one person I'm scared of," I reminded him.

His lips twitched. "Right," he answered. "See ya, Laynie." His eyes didn't leave Alex until he began walking away, slowly loosening his hold on my fingers until we couldn't reach anymore. I could even recognize the worry in his stance, the way he walked. I didn't know how on earth I'd found someone who could worry just as much as I could.

"Laynie," Alex said, moving out of the way as I started into our room. Everything looked the same, the exact way I'd left it, except for my duffle bag sitting on my bed. I pulled pajama shorts and a t-shirt out of it and a change of underwear, turning around to look for a towel. I didn't reply to Alex.

"Laynie," she repeated. "I was worried about you."

"What is my reply to that even supposed to be?" I asked her without a glance, pulling a clean towel off the stack and remembering I'd need my toiletries. I began digging through the duffle again.

"I – I don't know," she answered, more hurt in her voice. I didn't care. She'd hurt me plenty in the past month.

"I feel bad for the way we've been since everything happened," she told me slowly, sitting on her bed. I kept my back to her. "It's my fault, I know. I shouldn't have left you alone like that. I shouldn't care so much about what everyone thinks. God, I feel horrible."

I straightened out, turning to face her. "Cry me a river," I told her, taking my things and leaving the room. I made sure to close the door at a reasonable volume behind me, making my shower long and drawn out. Once I was confident all the oil was off my skin, I turned the water off, putting my hair up in its usual messy bun and walking back to my room slowly. Alex wasn't there. Hanging up my towel and taking a change of clothes with me, I headed downstairs toward Lexan's dorm, not feeling bad at all. Alex had been my friend, but that didn't change what she'd done to me. And I hadn't had the kind of day where I was in the mood to forgive.


	11. Our Date

There were enough students coming in and out of the dorms that I was able to sneak upstairs to Lexan's room without the matron noticing. Girls weren't allowed upstairs in the boy dorms, or vice versa. Luckily, I'd been healed by freaky spirit magic and was agile enough to sneak. I tried to imagine myself climbing into Lexan's window with fractured ribs, and rolled my eyes. Yeah, right.

The door was open a crack, and I pushed it open slowly, finding my Lexan on his bed, scribbling away in his sketchbook. His damp hair was a mess, as always, but his room was clean. All except for some garbage on his end table, which hadn't been there before we left.

"What's this?" I asked him, dropping my things off by the door and locking it behind me. He reached for the garbage, and I snatched it up before he could grab it, flipping through it.

It was receipts. One from the first restaurant we'd eaten at when we'd gotten to Court. Another from the place where we'd bought our fancy clothes. He'd even kept one of the handkerchiefs from the Moonlight Spa gift basket. I looked up at him, my heart aching.

"Memories," he said quietly, avoiding my eyes. I reached out and tipped his chin up so he would look at me, and I could tell he was embarrassed.

"This is the sweetest thing I've ever seen in my life," I said, grinning, and his shy smirk took the ache right out of my chest. "Lexan, how'd you get to be so perfect?"

"Coming from the most perfect girl in the universe," he said, grinning, and I smacked his shoulder, hearing his sarcasm clear as day.

"Shit, I am perfect," I joked, carefully putting his "memories" back on his end table. I climbed over him – he knew by now that I preferred being in the spot against the wall – and lay down on his pillow, closing my eyes. He brushed some hair out of my face, flipped a page in his sketchbook, and the scraping continued.

"Since when do you draw this much?" I asked. "I'm not complaining, it's just cute."

"Since I have a fuckin' awesome sketchbook from this cute girl I like," he answered. "She's my best friend."

I opened my eyes and grinned, leaning forward and kissing his side, which was the closest part of him to me. "Best friends forever."

"We never got to finish our date," he said absentmindedly, still scribbling. "Or even start it, for that matter."

"It's still your birthday," I said. "We can do something tonight, if you want. Go have a picnic in the woods. Steal food from the cafeteria or booze from the rich kids."

"No, this is better than any of that." I glanced up at him after he spoke, seeing his tiny smirk just as he looked away.

"Well, I'm glad you agree."

He laughed, then kept scribbling. I sat up slowly, glancing around. "Where are the drawings of me that you never let me see?"

"I didn't let you see them for a reason," he said, not even looking up. "Be still." I saw the curve of my chin taking form on his page, and I froze for him, closing my eyes.

"Let me know when I can move."

A knock on the door sounded, and I tensed, keeping my eyes closed. Lexan's pencil stopped scraping, and he put his sketchbook on my lap, standing up and walking to the door. I don't know who I expected it to be. Guardians, here to take me back home to my father? Would he do something like pull me out of school, since he was so upset with me?

The door opened and Lexan sighed in relief. My eyes opened just as Jeremy jumped into the room, Matt in his wake. "Laynie!" Jeremy said, grinning. "You're back!"

"Hey," I breathed, confused. I looked behind them to Lexan, who just smirked and shrugged.

"We heard around that you'd come back already," Jeremy said. "Everyone was saying that you got arrested or something. I checked your dorm but it was just Alex in there. Looked like she'd been crying." Jeremy held his hands up at his sides, like a surrender. "Wasn't me, swear."

Matt laughed. "Yeah, right. She came up to you this morning and you shot her ass down."

"What?" I asked, tucking Lexan's sketchbook under the comforter and moving toward the edge of the bed. "What do you mean? What happened?"

"She sniffs gossip," Matt said, still laughing.

"Shut the hell up," I ordered them. I shivered when I realized I sounded like my father. "What did you do to her?"

"Whoa, Laynie, I didn't do shit," Jeremy said. "She came up to me asking about you. I told her to mind her own business. Matt thinks she was just using it as an excuse to talk to me, ya know." He wagged his brows, and I rolled my eyes.

"She was asking me stuff when I got back," I said slowly. "I think she really feels bad. I told her to cry me a river."

Matt and Jeremy both laughed, and I glanced at my Lexan, silent in the background. He could see I felt guilty. What was I supposed to do? It wasn't like me, to be as mean as I'd been to Alex. She'd been my friend.

"Well, anyway," Matt said, both of them already having forgotten about Alex. "What's on the party agenda for tonight?"

"No parties," I said. "I got my ass kicked in Court. By Rose Hathaway," I quickly added, trying to avoid any conversation about actual ass-kicking. "I'm not up for anything like that."

"What! Are you serious?!" Jeremy demanded. They wanted to know everything about it, and Lexan came to sit with me on the bed. We summarized, for the most part, our sparring match. The boys seemed underwhelmed.

"That's it?" Jeremy asked.

"Come on, that can't be all of it. Only ten minutes? You didn't give her a black eye? Light her hair on fire? Nothing?"

"I don't think Laynie's goal was to make a sexy fighting porno with Rose," Lexan said, and Matt and Jeremy laughed. I could feel from my Lexan that he wasn't happy with our guests. It was easier in our little bubble of tranquility. He had always gotten along with the guys great, though. I wondered if it had anything to do with my recent attack. Maybe his defenses were running too high.

"Listen," I said, standing up. "We can go hang out downstairs for a little while after I see a feeder. Maybe practice a bit. But then I'm knocking out. Court was crazy."

Jeremy groaned but they both obliged, and Lexan looked at me in relief. As we walked downstairs, me hiding among the tall boys, I met his eyes. "Protecting me again," he murmured, and I grinned.

"Always."

Lexan went with me to the feeders in the cafeteria, and I tried to be quick, not quite sure how he felt about the idea of me drinking blood right in front of him. After that, we met up with Jeremy and Matt in the courtyard.

Groups of students sat on the grass or stood in pairs or trios all around the quad, and some of the other dhampir boys were even sparring. The smells of smoke rose immediately into my nose, and I knew someone somewhere was lighting up. They were idiots if they were doing it in the middle of campus. Did people really think they were that invincible?

"Matt, you first," Jeremy said. Matt looked the three of us over and chose me, and I rolled my eyes, moving into an open part of the field with him. We both ducked down, and I fell into the same routine. This kind of fighting was easy. Why wasn't it this easy when my father was around? Why did I slip up?

 _Because he's the only thing you're afraid of_ , I told myself. I wasn't afraid of anything else. Nothing in this world could hurt me the way he did. Not even a Strigoi.

I had Matt pinned within the first thirty seconds, and we struggled on the ground for a little while, then he flipped us over. I vaguely wondered how Lexan felt, watching me fight someone after just drawing me covered in bruises; I didn't have time to check his expression, because Matt swung, and I ducked to the side, rolling us over one more time and then flipping him by his wrist. I planted his face in the ground with his hair, leaning down to his ear. "Check mate, bitch," I said, and Jeremy and Lexan both laughed. I stumbled up and wiped dirt off my knees. And of course I had just showered.

"Winner picks next," Jeremy said. "Pick your poison, Ozera."

"Um, Lexan," I said, and both Jeremy and Matt groaned. Lexan's smirk was adorable as he rose to his feet, coming to meet me in the middle of the yard. We were the most even match on campus, by far; it took nearly a minute for even one of us to land a hit. Jeremy and Matt booed and cheered, and I couldn't even tell whose side they were on.

As Lexan and I circled, his safe green eyes glued to me, I glanced behind him to see Matt and Jeremy. They were whispering something, looking at me and Lexan like we were some kind of enigma; the momentary distraction had Lexan lunging, and he flipped me on my stomach the way I'd done to Matt, leaning down and kissing my cheek. "Check mate," he told me, and I laughed into the ground.

"Touché," I replied, letting him help me up. He looked surprised, and I remembered always refusing his help before. Well, a lot had changed.

"Who are you throwing down with, Lex?" Jeremy asked, and the other boy looked like he was picking carefully.

"Matt," Lexan finally said. It was an odd choice, considering I had just kicked Matt's ass and Lexan had kicked mine, but Matt rose anyway, always a good sport. He had dirt above his eyebrow, and I chuckled about it as I plopped next to Jeremy.

"So," he said after a few seconds of Matt and Lexan circling. "You and Lex, huh?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, equally as quiet. I didn't take my eyes off of my Lexan, eyeing his technique. I was challenging him again after this, and I was going to win.

"You guys are like a thing, then?" he asked, and I had to pull my eyes from the sparring duo, looking at Jeremy incredulously. He almost sounded…upset.

"Who said?" I asked.

"You brought him with you to Court. You were hanging out in his dorm, on his bed."

"There are no other chairs in there. Was I supposed to sit on the floor?"

"No," he grumbled, looking at the ground. He was ripping up grass in his fingers, avoiding my eyes. "I just didn't – I didn't realize, is all."

"What didn't you realize? We're not together. We're best friends."

"Are you and me best friends?" he asked, looking up at me finally.

This was so bizarre. "Yes?" I asked. Not on the level that Lexan and I were – but how often did you really find someone you were made for? I knew Lexan and I had been designed for each other. That much was clear.

"So you would come hang out with me in my dorm, on my bed?"

"Um, sure?" I couldn't help but sound confused, wondering what the hell Jeremy was talking about. I remembered his kiss on my cheek before I'd gone to Court, his bear hugs. Oh god.

"How about tomorrow?" he asked, and I glanced at him again, wondering how I was supposed to turn him down.

"I'm not – Jeremy," I said, sighing. "You're one of my best friends. But I'm not like – looking – I'm not wanting, or really looking for a relationship." I sounded like an idiot. I couldn't look at him. "Nothing against you, obviously. And I'm not saying any of this because of Lexan. He and I are best friends. You and I are best friends. But I'm not dating either of you. I don't want to date anyone."

"Oh," he said. He didn't look as disappointed as I'd been afraid of, which was a good sign. "So you and Lexan aren't together? You're not planning on getting together?"

"I don't know the future, but I'm sure if you asked both of us right now, we'd say the same thing," I said. "We're best friends. We hang out. We're not dating." Was that a good way to let him down easy, and also avoid the question? How could I tell him that Lexan and I were soulmates, whether or not we were together? I didn't know if Lexan and I would ever officially date, but I knew I wasn't going anywhere in my life without bringing him. He was mine, and I was his.

"Okay," Jeremy sighed, and both of our attention was brought fully back to the sparring match. Watching Lexan was like watching a warrior from a movie; everything he did came so naturally, so easily. He had Matt pinned just as quickly as I had, and I could see some color in Matt's cheeks as he stood up. Beaten in both of the matches he'd participated in.

Sirens began to sound all around us, and immediately I was on my feet, taking Lexan's hand. I didn't have time to worry about how Jeremy would perceive it. Lexan moved close to my side, looking around. Nothing was happening. Everyone looked as confused as we did.

The intercom buzzed and then a disembodied voice came over the loudspeakers. "Everyone report back to their dorms for early curfew. No exceptions will be made. Everyone report back to their dorms for early curfew." The voice sounded like a recording, repeating itself, and I saw some guardians emerging from other buildings. They didn't look confused, but a couple of them were surprised. I wondered if they even knew what was going on.

"Come on, before they're all out," Lexan urged, referring to the guardians, and he started pulling me with him towards the boys' dorm. I knew we had to hurry if I was going to make it upstairs with him, and we tried to hurry. Key word "tried."

"Eleyn Ozera," a guardian barked from behind us, and I stopped, sighing. It had been inevitable. "You're not allowed in that dorm. Come with me."

"I'll sneak up later," I told Lexan, trying to give him some semblance of comfort. The expression on his face made it seem like he was prepared to fight the guardian before letting him take me away. "Be safe."

"Be safe," he mimicked, and I nodded, turning to leave. I blew Lexan a kiss and then followed the guardian back in the direction we had come. It turned out to be Guardian Kova, and I wondered if he knew what was happening.

"So what's with the sirens?" I asked him, and he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. He seemed annoyed, to say the least.

"Some dumbass broke into the main office, looking through files," he said. "We're locking down to check the cameras before the kid can do anything drastic."

"How did they know someone broke in?"

"Set off an alarm system. Not the same one you heard, just one for the administrators." He glanced at me fully now, seeming to realize he was breaching security by telling me this. "Keep that to yourself."

"Yes, sir."

Why would someone be breaking into the main office? What information was on files that was important enough for someone to see? The gossip around campus was so continuous that I was sure if a student had been curious enough, they could have found the information they were looking for from pretty much anyone. Nothing was as reliable as school files, though, I guessed.

Alex was already in the dorm when I entered, and she was lying on her bed, scrolling through her phone. I was glad she wasn't looking at me. I fell into my bed and covered up quickly, sighing. I wouldn't be able to sleep without Lexan. Not after today.

"What's everyone freaking out for?" Alex asked. I peeked one eye open at her, seeing she was still on her phone. Not looking at me, thank god.

"Someone broke into the main office and stole files or something. Kova told me not to tell anyone." Since when had I ever listened to Kova? And it couldn't hurt to tell Alex. I was sure other students would know exactly which files had been looked through soon enough.

"Why the lockdown?"

"They're checking cameras."

"Cameras?" Alex asked, worry in her voice. I opened both eyes now, wrinkling my brow.

"Yeah. You didn't think there were cameras in there?"

"I knew there were, I just…" She trailed off, and I closed my eyes again, thinking over her tone. Why was Alex so concerned with the cameras? She'd been in the dorm the whole time. She had nothing to worry about.

Or did she?

What reason would Alex have for breaking into the office? What files would she want to see? Lexan's? Mine?

The lockdown persisted for the next hour or so. Finally they announced that it was over, but we were still confined to our rooms. I could wait another hour before going to Lexan's, probably. At least wait until Alex was asleep.

I almost expected guardians to burst into the room, demanding for Alex to surrender whatever files she'd stolen or looked through. It seemed she expected something similar, because it took forever for her to actually close her eyes. The familiar quiet snoring sounded after a while, and I sighed with relief. Finally.

The sun was beating down by the time I jogged across campus to get to Lexan's dorm. The Bosnian flag shone in his window, as always, and I scaled the wall, tapping on the glass. He pushed it open, helping pull me inside and then keeping his arms tight around me.

"What happened?" he breathed, kissing my shoulder, my neck, my cheek. "Are you okay?"

"Of course," I replied, smiling up at his worried expression. I relayed the information Kova had given me, and what had happened when I'd told Alex about it. "They didn't bust in to arrest her or anything," I noted. "So who knows if she actually did it. Maybe she just knows the person who did."

"That's really not smart of her," Lexan said slowly. "She could be incriminating herself, her friends, even you." I was a bit confused at first that he didn't include me in the "her friends" category, but understood immediately. Alex and I were not friends anymore. That wasn't how you treated friends.

"Yeah, who even knows," I sighed, moving past him and climbing into his bed. He had been sketching again, of course, and I pulled the sketchbook to me. I looked up, questioning, and he rolled his eyes and nodded.

"Go ahead, I guess."

"Thanks." I grinned and pulled the cover open, seeing the same drawing as before; me, bruised and battered, lying asleep in a hospital bed. I wanted to run my fingers over it, to make sure it wasn't real, but I didn't want to risk smearing the artwork. Another page held a drawing of me sleeping on the plane, which he must have completed at some point. Flipping to the next page, there was one more moment I remembered: me lying in his bed, hair brushed out of my face. I smiled down at it, feeling his fingers touch my skin again. It had only been a couple hours since he'd drawn this.

Next page, more of me. And another one of me. And another. There weren't very many drawings altogether, but they were all portraits. My favorite was the one he had been working on when I'd walked in. My head was thrown back in laughter; the Court grounds were behind me. Under my knees was a checkered blanket.

"Our date, if we'd finished it," he told me, pointing to some leaves on the ground beside me. "From the tree that you said was unnecessary."

"You're freaking amazing," I told him, dragging my eyes from his art to his face. His shy smile was one of the cutest things I'd ever seen, and I leaned my head against his shoulder. "What did you draw before you drew me?"

"My parents. My grandparents. Bosnia."

"Wow," I breathed. I would have liked to see the images he'd created of his parents, especially his mom; I knew the fact that he had lost her still hurt him to this day. I couldn't ask, though. How invasive could I be?

"You're pretty amazing yourself," he said, smirking, and I rolled my eyes, handing him back his sketchbook.

"You can keep drawing if you want," I said, lying down on his pillow. "I'm going to sleep."

"Goodnight, Laynie love."

I grinned, eyes closed. "Goodnight, Lexan love."


	12. A Needle

The next morning was Sunday. I woke up as I usually did: thinking about Lexan. And there he was right beside me, sleeping peacefully, hair a flattened mess but lips and eyes resting.

The main thing bothering me was the dirt still on my knees; I knew I had just showered, but sparring in the courtyard had made me need another. Climbing over Lexan carefully, I found a piece of notebook paper in his backpack and wrote him a quick note. "Went back to my dorm to shower. Will come back after. Safe. –L"

I went out through the window, knowing it wouldn't be smart to go through somewhere the dorm matron might spot me. There was very little sun as I jogged across campus, and I glanced up at the cotton candy sky more than once. It felt impossible not to feel safe under a sky like that.

I showered as quickly as possible, wanting to be in and out of my dorm while Alex was still sleeping. There were some students awake, but most of them would be sleeping in today. Despite the early curfew, I was sure no one had let it take away from the partying of a Saturday night.

My hair went back up in its messy bun; my outfit was torn light-wash jeans and a blue and gray striped sweater. The weather wasn't cold just yet, but my winter fashion was far more practical than most of my summer clothes. Just as I went to climb out of the window, a knock rang through the room. Alex jolted in her bed, her snore cutting off midway, and she rubbed her eyes. "Is someone here?" she asked.

"I'm guessing," I answered, leaving the window open and moving toward the door. I was hoping it wasn't Jeremy; how awkward would it be to tell him I was going back to Lexan's?

As I pulled it open, I tensed. Four black-clad guardians. I moved out of the way, knowing who they were here for. Alex had been caught on camera. She was busted.

"Eleyn Ozera?" one asked, to my surprise. I nodded, my hand tightening on the door.

"Yes?"

"You need to come with us. You've been removed from the school directory."

"What?!" I demanded; removed from the directory? Did that mean kicked out?

I thought back to my father, to the look on his face when he'd seen that I was rooming with a boy. Was it possible that he really had pulled me out of school, after all?

I was not going back there. I was not.

 _Fight or flight_ , my mind screamed. Four guardians stood in front of me, and they didn't look like they were from the school. Flight it is, then.

I turned and bolted to the window, ready to leap face-first out of it, but the guardians were faster than me. I lit one of their sleeves on fire and kneed the other one in the stomach; they had expected this, and were prepared to fight back. Three of them were on top of me, the other putting the fire out of his sleeve. "Let me go!" I screamed. "Alex, help!"

She stayed frozen, sitting up on her bed, watching, and I knew she was hopeless. This was all on me, then.

I took one down. I threw another against the wall, with enough force to have knocked a hole in the plaster. I lit more of them on fire. I did everything I could.

But nothing was going to save me from a needle.

I knew it was tranquilizer as soon as one of them pulled it free from its canister on his belt. I tried to focus on it, to heat it up so it was inactive or at least so the glass would explode, but they knew who I was. They already knew what I could do. They pinned me against the wall, and forced the needle through the skin of my neck.

Immediately, everything was black.

—

I woke up in a room, voices all around me; it was Guardian Petrov's office, and I was lying on her couch. She was speaking to one of the four guardians, and those were two of the voices I'd heard. The others were Guardian Kova and another of the four guardians, except their voices were nowhere near as polite as Alberta's was. Kova was shouting.

"We all know," he hissed. "We all know! He can't take her back there!"

"There's nothing we can do. We have orders."

"From who?! Her father doesn't even employ dhampirs! He despises them!"

Everything was still foggy, but not foggy enough for me to forget the situation I was in. I had been removed from the directory. I was being sent home. My father had pulled me out of school.

"The claims will be investigated. But the alleged victim herself never even came forward. If there is no complainant, the process will take a lot longer."

"That's just not right," Kova growled. "That's not right. Has someone told the Queen about this? Her husband? Christian would never let this happen."

"The Queen and her husband understand the boundaries," the guardian said. He was the one who had stuck me with the needle. "But my previous assertion stands. No complainant, nothing else we can do."

I realized then that these guardians weren't like normal guardians; either my father had paid for their services, or they had been instructed to remove me by someone else. They weren't from Court, and they definitely weren't my father's. They weren't from the Academy. They were free agents.

Alberta was the first one to see that I was awake. "Laynie," she breathed, immediately circling her desk and kneeling at my side. "Laynie, you have to tell us what happened at Court yesterday."

"What?" I asked, my voice groggy, my throat too dry. "I need a drink."

Kova shot toward Alberta's desk, and I tried sitting up. Alberta smoothed back my hair, shaking her head. "No, Laynie. Don't try to sit up. What happened at Court yesterday? Why were you so hurt?"

My eyes began to water. My head was pounding. "I fell," I said.

"What did I tell you?" the guardian who had been arguing with Kova said. "No complainant."

"We know that that's not what happened," Alberta pleaded. "Why did you have Christian send the school a letter stating we weren't allowed to give your father any of your discipline records? Why did you beg Mikhail not to tell your father about what you did to Larkin?"

"I – I don't know," I said, feeling tears starting to drip down my cheeks. "I didn't – I didn't do anything wrong."

"We know, Laynie, honey," Alberta said. "But these guardians are here to take you back to your father's house. He's going to homeschool you from now on. He pulled you out of the Academy. If you don't tell us what happened to you, we can't stop him."

A war was waging itself in my mind; confess? Or let them drag me back to my father?

I had no idea what he would do if he found out I had told. But I knew I didn't stand a chance. If he hadn't killed me before, he certainly would if I told anyone what he did to me. He would make sure I suffered. He might even come after Lexan. These guardians, these people trying to protect me, had no idea what he was capable of.

"I need to see Lexan," I said, sitting up against Alberta's warm hands. Kova was holding a bottle of water, and I held out my hand for it. I held the cold bottle against my forehead and then cracked it open. "Before you send me back, I have to see Lexan. To say goodbye."

"Laynie. Eleyn," Alberta pleaded. "Listen to us. We can keep you safe here. Tell us what he did and we can keep you safe. We can't keep you safe if you go back to him."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said robotically. "I need to see my Lexan."

Alberta sighed and stood up, looking at Kova, and the older guardian left the room. I sat up fully, my head spinning and aching. Where was Aidan when you needed him?

Two of the stranger guardians stood on the edges of the room, Alberta at her desk; Kova was still gone, and the other two guardians waited outside the door. Finally, there was a knock, and Kova entered. Instead of Lexan following him, it was Alex.

"Why is she here?" I asked Alberta, not even meeting the other girl's eyes; Alex began sobbing, her voice a soft groan.

"It's my fault, Laynie," she cried out, taking steps toward me. I shifted further into the couch, trying to move away. "I broke into the records office. I found your dad's number and I called and told him that you were involved with a dhampir. That's why this is happening. That's why he's taking you away."

I couldn't pretend she wasn't there anymore. I turned to look at her, my blood suddenly boiling. "You did what?"

"You were so m-mean to m-me yesterday—"

"So you have me kicked out of school?"

"I didn't know that would happen – I thought you would just get in trouble—"

"You saw me when school started, Alex," I said, meeting her eyes coldly. If I had gotten anything from my father, it was his death glares. "You saw. When I pulled up my shirt, you saw. And that's what you're sending me back to."

"Laynie, if I could take it back, I would…"

"But you can't. Get her out." I looked at Kova, then to Alberta. "Get her out of here. I don't want to see her."

"Laynie, just tell us the truth and we can keep you safe," Kova urged, but I shook my head stiffly.

"Get her out. Bring me Lexan."

"He's in the hall," Kova whispered to Alberta, and she nodded.

"We'll give you privacy," Alberta told me. She waved to the other guardians, and they slowly left the room, with Alex. Alberta hugged the crying girl, and my stomach twisted with anger. How could she do this to me?

Lexan walked into the room and closed the door, and I jumped off the couch too quickly, a wall of dizziness nearly knocking me to the ground. Lexan caught me in his arms, burying his face in my shoulder. His arms were tighter than they'd ever been.

"They woke me up," he said. "I saw your note. You told me you would be safe," he begged, his voice breaking. "Laynie, baby, you can't leave."

"I can't tell. He'll kill me if I tell, Lexan," I said. "He'll kill me."

"I'd protect you."

"You can't. No one can protect me from him."

"Laynie, please stay," he groaned. "I'll do anything. Do you want to leave? We can leave. We can go to Bosnia, to Russia, to France, we can go anywhere we want. I'll take you anywhere. You can't leave me. You can't go back to him."

I pulled back to look at him, his perfect green eyes overflowing, and could no longer fight any tears myself. "I don't want to leave you, Lexan," I cried, hugging him tightly again. "I can't lose you."

"Then tell them the truth," Lexan whispered. "Tell them."

"He'll kill me, or he'll kill you," I said. "I can't live without you. If you died, I would die."

"Laynie," he murmured. "Please."

"Just stay here and be safe, okay?" I asked. "Mail me some drawings under a different name. Write me letters. We can figure out a code. I'll try to call."

"Laynie, you can't leave," he said again. "You can't."

"I'll be okay," I lied. "It'll be okay."

"Stop saying that," he growled. "I'll come for you."

"We'll both be fugitives, Lexan," I said. "Just stay here. Everything will be okay."

He buried me in his arms, and there were more knocks on the door. We were out of time.

"Lexan," I said, taking his face in my hands. "Lexan."

"Laynie, please," he pleaded. "Tell them."

"I just can't," I cried as the door opened. The guardians came in, one of them taking my arm.

"It's time to go," the man said.

"She can't," Lexan said to no one, to everyone, looking around at all the guardians. "You can't give her back to him."

"Let's go," the guardian said, angrier this time. He started pulling me, and I saw Lexan's eyes flash, his arm swing back.

"Don't!" I screamed, catching his fist. "Lexan, don't get yourself in trouble. Don't."

"They can't take you."

"Watch us," the guardian said, and Alberta and Kova backed out of the way. They knew their boundaries, too. There was nothing anyone could do, nothing except me telling them the truth. But I couldn't. I didn't even know if I would be able to say the words.

The guardian was holding my upper arm, but I reached for Lexan as best as I could, yanking him to me again. "It'll be okay," I whispered. It felt too chaotic now, like there was a war around me. But there wasn't. Only in my mind.

"I love you, Laynie," he said, pulling back to look down at me. "I love you."

I was stunned, more tears pouring down my cheeks. "I love you, Lexan," I said, and I took his face in one of my hands, pulling his lips down to mine.

It was like I had been waiting a hundred years for this moment. His lips were warm, urgent, perfectly shaped to fit mine; he dug his fingers into my hair and kissed me back, kissed me with his love, with his fear, with his pain. The guardians were the ones to tug us apart, Kova and Alberta holding Lexan, the four strangers holding me. "I love you, Lexan," I said as they dragged me out through the doorway. "I love you."

"I love you, Laynie," he breathed. He wasn't fighting his guardian restraints, not like I was. It was like he was watching his life end right before his eyes, and he knew there was nothing he could do about it.

The door closed in our faces, and my Lexan was gone.

—

The plane ride home was much shorter than I would have liked. My mother and father greeted us in the driveway. While my father was okay employing dhampirs, apparently, he didn't want them in his house.

I pretended not to notice the marks on both of my father's knuckles. We both knew where they had come from.

"Pleased to have you back, Eleyn," he said, taking my bag from one of the guardians. "You may go upstairs now. Don't come down until we call you for dinner."

"Yes, sir," I answered automatically, passing my crying mother and heading toward the front door. I walked into the tiny house I'd grown up in, looking at the portraits on the walls and the markings on the banister by the stairs of how much I'd grown as a toddler. I climbed the stairs slowly, not letting any more tears fall until I locked the door of my bedroom. I sat on the edge of my bed and looked directly at my eyes in the mirror for the first time in weeks. _Better get used to them_ , I told myself. _You'll be seeing them every day from now on. Until he kills you._

That was the first day. He didn't hit me the first day.

The second day I woke up with the cotton candy sky showing through my window. We lived in a mostly Moroi neighborhood, so we didn't seem out of the ordinary operating on a nocturnal schedule. My father worked nights as a head security officiator for some company that sold weaponry. My mother was a nurse at a small Moroi clinic.

I sat at my window for a long time, until I heard the bell ringing downstairs for breakfast. Today was Monday. Perhaps my father would have some sort of lesson planned for me to do while he was at work.

Breakfast was French toast and fruit salad. My father already sat at the head of the table, reading the paper and sipping his coffee. My mother was moving around the kitchen, and she handed me a plate as I passed her. I had no appetite. I hadn't eaten anything since the plane ride, where I had forced down some crackers.

"We'll need to get you to a feeder today, Eleyn," my father told me without looking up. "When was your last time?"

"Yesterday," I answered, keeping my eyes on my plate. I cut into a piece of toast, sliding it around my plate. I popped a grape into my mouth. That was about all I could do.

"When I get home from work I'll take you. Delilah, go upstairs and get my tie for me," he told my mother, again without looking up from his paper. She obeyed immediately, and I heard her heels clicking on the wooden stairwell.

"Now, Eleyn," my father began, and I met his eyes quickly. It was polite. "I'm expecting good behavior out of you. Especially because of you allegedly being so far ahead in your classes. Your mother has prepared a lesson plan for you, and a tutor will be coming by later today. She has known our family for years," he said carefully, his voice growing quieter. "Do not embarrass us."

"Yes, sir," I said, my voice mechanical. I kept my eyes on his until he looked away, and then I looked back at my food, nauseous.

I had never felt that amount of pain in my entire life.

It wasn't even physical pain. It was emotional, in my chest, in my heart; where was Lexan? Was he behaving? Had he broken out of the school yet? What were his plans? Was he okay?

I wanted to see him more than I'd ever wanted anything. Lexan. Lexan. Lexan. The man I loved.

"May I be excused, sir?" I asked, and my father raised his gaze slowly to my plate.

"You've eaten nothing."

"I'm not hungry."

"I suppose." He looked away again, and I stood up, hitting the table accidentally with my thighs. His coffee tipped over and spilled onto his lap, and he gasped, standing up quickly. His pants were steaming.

My mom's shoes clicked on the stairs, and my father glanced up. "Delilah, go back upstairs and iron me a new suit," he said, and she didn't hesitate to turn back around. I was frozen in place. Fight or flight?

Neither, obviously. Not in this house.

"Eleyn, I understand you're not comfortable with the decision I've made on your behalf," he said slowly, his voice a growl. "But I expect nothing less than perfection out of you and your behavior. Are we clear?"

I nodded.

"Are we clear?" he shouted, and he moved too fast for me to fathom; his hand was around my throat, slamming me against the wall. My feet weren't even on the ground anymore. I clung to his hold on me, feeling the harsh scrape of the scabs on his knuckles under my fingertips. His hand heated up on my neck, and I tried to cry out, to breathe, even. I could do neither.

His hand began to heat more and more, and I regretted ever doing this to another person. "If I hear so much as one bad thing about you at the end of today, we will have another talk similar to this one," he told me softly. I was going to have blisters on my neck. Tears formed at the corners of my eyes, and he finally dropped me. I fell to my knees on the tile, gasping for air.

He turned and stalked toward the staircase, his shoes making similar noises to my mother's as he climbed it. I stayed on the floor where I was. When I was certain he was going to be in his room, I tiptoed up the staircase, going into my room and closing the door. The lock clicked into place under my shaking fingers, although I knew that wouldn't stop him. Nothing could.

—

My father came home from work around five. There was still no sunlight coming through the windows. My mother was already home, dozing upstairs. My father allowed me an hour of time to myself up in my room before he planned on taking me to a feeder. I obliged immediately, locking my door behind me and falling onto my bed.

A tapping on my window jolted me awake, and I hadn't even realized I'd been sleeping. I stood slowly and walked to peer through the blinds. Was it my Lexan? Was he here to rescue me?

There was nothing outside. Only trees and darkness.

I glanced at the clock on the wall above my bed and saw that it had been an hour since I was supposed to be downstairs. Was it even worth going, now? I knew I had to. If I didn't, my father would come up here. And I would lose more than just the privilege of a lock on my door.

I opened the door and glanced around the empty hallway, all the lights off. Maybe my dad had decided to lie down with my mother and taken a nap himself. If he had, I had gotten really lucky.

I took a couple steps into the hallway and glanced down the stairs. They were empty, too, except for something at the bottom of them; in the darkness, it looked like someone had spilled a drink. I eased my way down the stairs, knowing it was in my best interest to clean it up as soon as possible. I ran hot water over a dish rag and knelt on the stairs.

I knew the smell before my knees had even touched the wood. That was not a drink.

It was blood.


	13. Hundreds of Me

I tried to hold in a gasp, covering my mouth with my hand and backing away from the staircase. In my fear, I hadn't bothered to look around me. I thought I accidentally backed into a wall.

I had not.

I turned slowly, my hand still covering my mouth. Standing right at the foot of my staircase, blood dripping down from his eerie smile, was a man I had never seen before. Even in the lack of light, I knew what he was. I could see his eyes, the ring of a wrong color around his pupils.

I had never seen a Strigoi in real life until that moment.

Before I could even register a way to move, he had flung me into the stairs, still smiling. "You smell a lot better than he did," the man breathed, and I felt fear pulse through my veins. Fear and adrenaline. "Maybe you'll taste better."

"What?" I asked, trying to think of a tactic to stay alive; I had always thought my dad would be the one to kill me, or maybe a car accident. Never a Strigoi.

 _Keep him talking_ , my brain told me, sounding a lot like Lexan. How many Strigoi had Lexan taken on fearlessly? I could fight Lexan for hours. We were a perfect match. I could easily take down this Strigoi. Especially since his eyes weren't icy blue.

Or would that help?

"The blood that you almost cleaned up belongs to your father," the man said slowly, like I was stupid. He took a step forward, still smiling. It was terrifying. "Or at least, I think it was your father. You have the same pretty eyes."

"His eyes aren't pretty," I said quickly, backing up a couple steps so I was on the stairs. My back should have been aching where I'd landed, but there was too much adrenaline running through me for me to feel any pain. "They're horrible."

"Aw, a little Ozera, ashamed of her family trait?" he mocked, and he reached forward with blinding speed, grabbing onto my ankle and yanking me off the stairs. I felt the blood smear across the back of my shirt. He leaned down, in my face, and laughed. "I'll give you that you're brave, little bird."

"I try," I hissed, and swung forward to strike him; he anticipated my movement much quicker than a dhampir or another Moroi would have, and he grabbed my wrist, bending it behind me. I cried out, and he laughed again, lifting me up by my wrist and tossing me in the opposite direction, toward the kitchen. The back of my head collided with the wall, but I didn't feel it, managing to get to my feet before he tried for another blow.

It was dodge and duck, dodge and duck. I didn't even have time to be offensive with the amount of hits he was making. He cornered me against the counter and I moved to knee him in the stomach, and landed it – but it didn't affect him at all. It was like kneeing cement. No give, the only pain on my end.

He kept laughing, and I finally managed to picture the eyes, the icy blue that had been haunting me for the past three days, ceaselessly; I felt stronger, more uncontrollable, and then he was on the defensive, dodging my blows. I felt like we were dancing, going nowhere. How did you hurt something that couldn't be hurt?

He managed to throw me again, tossing me into the china cabinet in the dining room. The glass shattered and rained all around me, and I felt other things land on me, too. The metal hooks that had been holding the plates. A board full of old silverware that my father had made me polish plenty of times. I knew there was a silver knife in there somewhere. Did I have time to look for it?

He didn't give me time to look, kicking me in the stomach and then the ribs while I was on the ground, and I retched, seeing stars. This was it. A Strigoi was going to kill me in my father's house.

And then, as I tried to picture the eyes again, I remembered what Christian had said to me when we had first been reunited.

He had set Strigoi on fire.

In a blink, I had a blaze starting, lighting up the bottoms of the man's pants and then dragging the flames up with my gaze to the rest of his clothes. He screamed, lashing out at me in pain and anger, and I dodged most of his kicks, making it to my feet again. I brought the fire up, up, covering his whole entire body, so in front of me was just a burning man. He lunged forward, and I moved out of the way just barely; he caught onto my hair, and I could smell it burning just before I kneed him in the chin. He toppled to the ground, shrieking, and fell into a window. The curtains lit up, the fire jumping from window to window. I backed away, feeling blood dripping down from my nose. From a hit, or from the magic?

I didn't know what else to do but turn and run, and I almost went to the front door before I remembered my mother. Was she here, too? I slipped on the blood at the base of the stairs but jumped over it, sliding over the landing toward my mother's bedroom door. It was locked. I kicked, and kicked, and kicked again, until finally it blasted off the hinges, flying into the room.

There was another man, kneeling over my mother in her bed; he took one look at me and then lunged for the window, but I gave him no time. I lit him on fire much more quickly than I'd lit the other Strigoi, and I felt my head pounding, dizziness threatening to overpower me. Fighting harder than I ever had, I crossed the room, waiting for the Strigoi's screams to stop. The smell of smoke was strong now, and I knew downstairs the fire must have been spreading rapidly.

"Mom," I shouted, at her side finally; I shook her shoulders, and her eyes were open and glazed, her smile dreamy.

"Laynie, my darling," she breathed, reaching up and wiping some of the blood under my nose. "Did he do that to you, too?"

"Mom, come on," I begged, trying to sit her up. I could hear the fire downstairs; it was roaring, smashing, cracking the wood of the kitchen table and cabinets. "Get up, we have to leave."

"Oh, I'm just fine right here, dear," she told me, nodding. She closed her eyes, sighing. "I'm going to go to sleep now."

"No, Mom," I cried, tears falling down my cheeks. Crash, snap, roar. The fire had made it to the stairs. "Get up. We gotta get out. There's a fire."

"Oh, it's probably your father messing around," she murmured, her eyes still closed. "Let me sleep, Laynie. I love you."

"I love you, Mom," I told her, sobs wracking my chest. I put my fingers on her neck, slick with blood, and tried to feel for her pulse. "Mom, wake up."

She didn't reply.

"Mom!" I screamed, shaking her shoulders again. "Mom, please!"

I pulled back her eyelids, not even fazed by the amount of blood on my hands, and I could see that they were empty. I waited, almost too long, to find her pulse again, pounding out CPR on her chest. "Mom," I whimpered, pushing against her. "Mom, wake up." I climbed onto her bed, leaning my head where her heart should have been beating. "I love you so much."

I could see it now, the fire and thick black smoke bursting up the staircase onto the landing; I almost couldn't breathe, my eyes watering. I knew I had to get out. If I hadn't let a Strigoi kill me, I most certainly wasn't letting my element take me. I clumsily maneuvered off of my mom's bed, leaning down and kissing her cheek. I told her I loved her another time before I opened the window, glancing down at the ground. There were bushes down there. It was my best bet. I climbed all the time at school; why not here?

Just as I moved to jump, the fire blasted into the room, pushing me out of the window and burning my back. I scrambled, scraping my hands on the wall, and landed painfully in the bushes, rolling onto the grass. I looked up at the house, smoke as thick as water rising out of the window into the sky. It took everything in me to stand and run, away from the house, away from the fire, toward the street. I collapsed on the sidewalk exactly one house down, unable to move any more. Blood was falling from my nose like a waterfall. It was all over me, on my hands, my face, my chest, my arms. Facedown on the sidewalk, I rested my cheek on the cool concrete, a welcome change from the heat of the flames. There was cotton candy in the sky.

That was the last thing I saw before I passed out.

—

I heard myself, my own voice, saying Lexan's name. I knew nothing else except that his name was coming out of my mouth, over and over. "Lexan," I would groan. "Where is my Lexan?"

—

"Lexan," I groaned again, and this time I opened my eyes. I felt like I was playing a repeat of the day in the Court hospital room, too many guardians surrounding me, Aidan on my bed holding my hand. I wrinkled my brow, pulling my hand away. "Where's Lexan?" I asked him. The pain was almost overwhelming, and my eyes began to water. "Where is he?"

"He's at the Academy, Laynie," Aidan answered. I couldn't tell whether or not this was a dream. "He doesn't know anything about what happened to you."

"Ask her if she wants the molnijas," a woman's voice hissed. I tried to turn my head, but a bandage on my neck prevented it. So did a lack of sight in one of my eyes.

"Later," Aidan said, turning to speak to the stranger. He turned back to me, extending his hand. "May I heal you again, Laynie?"

"Sure thing," I said, welcoming his touch, and he closed his eyes like he had before. I was in a different room than the Court one; in fact, this looked more like an actual hospital room, like the ones on TV. The guardians I could see were unrecognizable, as well, except for one: Alberta. Just as I opened my mouth to ask her what happened, I felt the magic flood into me. The pain in my chest and arms went away. The pain in my ribs was next. Slowly I could see again in both of my eyes. The bandage stopped numbing the pain of my neck, and instead became just an itchy nuisance.

Aidan released my hand and sighed, his eyes still closed, and I tried not to worry about him. My injuries hadn't been that extensive, had they? He didn't have to use that much spirit on me. Especially if I was the only one he was practicing on; I'm sure he would be fine. Right?

I reached up and pulled at the bandage around my neck, and a nurse shot forward to help me, taking it off. I could see viscous yellow and red on it, but reaching up to touch my skin, there was nothing there. Totally healed.

"What happened?" I asked Alberta, finally able to really look at her. I still didn't know who had asked about molnijas. What did I need those for?

"A pair of Strigoi attacked you and your family, Laynie," Alberta said quietly, coming to stand by my bedside. I took her hand without being invited, and her warm, rough touch felt safe. "They killed your parents. You killed them. Do you remember that?"

I wrinkled my brow, trying to remember what had happened to me. Then I saw the flames, and the red-ringed eyes, and felt the china cabinet showering down around me; I flinched and closed my eyes, covering them with my free hand.

"I killed them?" I asked her.

"Yes, you did," she told me quietly, sitting next to me carefully. "You killed both of them with your magic. The strength of your fear must have been too much. The fire spread to the whole house."

"No – he caught the curtains on fire," I told her, uncovering my eyes but keeping them closed. "I lit one of them up, the one who killed my father. I lit him up and he fell into the curtains and the fire starting jumping around, like it was alive."

I heard someone scribbling feverishly on a notepad, and I wondered if this was my testimony. "Then what happened, Laynie?"

"I went upstairs to check if my mom was okay," I said. "I couldn't leave her in the house with the fire and the Strigoi. There was another one in her room. He was on top of her, he—" I cut off and felt more tears on my cheeks, wiping them away. "Where's Lexan?" I asked again.

"You'll be back at the Academy soon enough, Laynie," Alberta soothed, touching my hair. I remembered it burning, and wondered if that had been fixed by Aidan healing me. Probably not.

"He was drinking from her. He saw me and jumped away, I guess he must have been able to tell that I wasn't fucking around. I lit him up, too. He was easy. And I went to see if my mom was okay, and she…and she…" I trailed off again. "She died, while I was watching her. I begged her to wake up. I begged her to come with me. But she…"

"Alberta," someone said, anger in their voice, and I looked up to see Christian Ozera, standing next to Rose Hathaway. This really was just like the other hospital scene. Had Rose been the one to ask if I wanted my molnijas? "She doesn't need to talk about this."

"The fire came all the way up the stairs," I told them, blinking. "I burned them because you told me, Christian," I whispered. "Remember, you told me you set Strigoi on fire?"

"I remember," he said, smiling softly, and he came closer to my other side, touching my cheek. "You did amazing, Laynie. You killed two Strigoi on your own. Who knows how many people you saved by doing that?"

"I need to see Lexan," I said slowly, looking up at him. For some reason, the eyes no longer scared me. "The Strigoi knew I was an Ozera because of my eyes," I remembered. "He called me brave."

"You are so brave, Laynie," Alberta breathed in relief. "We are so proud of you."

"For killing?" I asked her, looking from her to Rose and then to Christian. They all probably knew the way I was feeling. "Don't be proud of me."

There was a brief silence, and then I broke it. "Did they find my dad's body?"

"They found his remains, yes," Alberta said immediately. "They found four sets of remains. They put out the fire before it had totally destroyed the Strigoi."

"Where was my father?"

"In his study."

"He's dead?"

"Yes, Laynie. Your father is dead."

I couldn't even fathom the words she was saying. My father, dead? Nothing could hurt him. He was invincible. Only he could hurt others. Not the other way around.

Christian dropped his hand from my cheek and tugged at my hair. "You know, you need a haircut."

"Why?"

"It's burned," he said, holding it so I could see. My long, beautiful hair, charred on the ends. I had suspected that. The Strigoi had grabbed onto me. I wondered what I had looked like, bursting into my mother's room. Blood covering me, dripping from my nose, my hair probably still burning. That would be why the Strigoi had fled.

"I figured," I sighed, leaning my head back against my pillow. "I need Lexan," I told them all, forcefully. "Get him here."

"We're going to get you back to the Academy as soon as possible, Laynie," Alberta said.

"No, I want to see him now," I said, opening my eyes. "And I want my molnijas."

"You do?" Alberta and Rose asked at the same time; they looked stunned, confused. "I thought you weren't proud of killing," Alberta added.

"I'm not," I said, but I met her gaze steadily. I didn't tell her that the molnijas, to me, wouldn't represent the Strigoi I had killed. It would be my parents, forever etched into my skin. Gone forever in life, but not in death. They could never hurt me again. After the sting of the initial tattooing, my father would never throw me across a room again. My mother would never cover for him, never act like she hadn't known. That's what my molnijas would mean. A goodbye.

"Well we need to start getting the appointment set up," Alberta said, moving away from my bed. "Laynie, why don't you try standing?"

Surprisingly, Aidan was the one who shot forward, taking my hand as I started to move out of the hospital bed. My feet found the cold floor, and I stood, not realizing that all I was wearing were my unders and a hospital gown until I was on my feet. I shivered. "Where are my clothes?"

"Ruined," Aidan told me, supporting me with his arm around my waist. "Try walking, love."

I ignored the pet name, itching under the discomfort of anyone besides Lexan calling me them, and took a few slow steps, not in any pain. If anything, I was just dizzy, my stomach growling. Just as I opened my mouth to ask, Aidan spoke.

"She needs a feeder, and some food," he told Alberta. I wasn't a fan of this protectiveness he seemed to feel; I knew Lexan wouldn't be a fan of the way his arm was twisted around me. "And new clothes."

"We have her bag on the plane already," Alberta said, starting toward the door. She scribbled on a checkpad and ripped one off, handing it to the nurse. "Remember the agreement you signed," she said quietly to the woman, who nodded and tucked the check into the pocket of her scrubs. The rest of us filed out of the room, and my stomach sank as I realized this was the hospital my mother had belonged to.

I didn't know how long it had been since her death, but I felt like there should have been more here for her: memorials, her pictures on the walls, flowers. There was nothing. I wondered if anyone here even knew yet.

Someone gave me a big coat, and a pair of slippers from the hospital. These assisted me along the way to the SUV that was parked out front of the hospital, which took me, Aidan, the guardians, and Alberta back to the airport. Rose and Christian took a different car. Christian's goodbye to me was a pat on the shoulder and another tug on my hair, and Rose took me into a bear hug, nearly lifting me off the ground.

We were at the airport within an hour. I wondered vaguely how many airplanes in three days one person could be on safely. Regardless, the guardians urged me toward the private hangars, and Aidan came with us. He was getting on a different plane, one that would take him back to Court.

"Thank you for the help," I told him, still a bit uncomfortable but able to bear it to say goodbye. "For healing me. I know it's not easy, or good for you."

"Helping others is always good for me," he replied, smiling. "Fly safe, Laynie. Keep in touch."

"Ditto," I replied, and he grinned, letting his guardians take him toward the Pennsylvania plane. Alberta and I went on a separate one, although we were the only ones who boarded the plane. I fell asleep almost immediately upon sitting down. My body was exhausted, despite being healed.

I was shaken awake by Alberta, and she helped me toward the bathroom so I could change into regular clothes before we landed. I put on jeans and a t-shirt, not in the mood for any sort of style today. Right as we landed, she took me off the plane and to the guardian office. The sun was streaming incredibly bright on campus; there was no one around. She sat me in a chair and another guardian came in, snipping the burned ends off my hair. I asked him to make it look normal, and by doing so, he had to cut it to just below my shoulders. I wondered if Lexan would like it.

Afterward, Alberta told me that they would schedule my molnijas, and that I could go back to my dorm. She didn't have anyone escort me, and I wondered if she knew that I was just going to go straight to Lexan's. Either way, she didn't stop me, and I climbed up the wall toward the flag as usual, pushing his window open.

There was no response when I came into the room, and I looked around, confused. Lexan wasn't in his bed, but his sketchbook was; that was the only thing that assured me that he hadn't left the school. His pajama drawer was open, his stack of clean towels missing one, and I figured he was in the shower. The room itself was much messier than I'd left it, and I bent down to pick up a crumpled piece of notebook paper, unfolding it and seeing a smeared drawing of me. It was from a very long time ago, probably shortly after he and I had become friends. My hair was long. I dropped the paper to the floor.

I moved the sketchbook onto his nightstand and just barely noticed in the darkness that he had posted many drawings of me all over his walls. Almost all of them were just on notebook paper. I wondered if he felt comfortable tearing pages out of his sketchbook. I was always smiling in the drawings, or laughing, sleeping, fighting; I felt like there were hundreds of me, all over his room. I lay in his bed, touched. Then I fell asleep.


	14. All Crying and Shit

I didn't recall anything from my dream except the red around the Strigoi's eyes. They bore into me, hot like flame, and then changed shade and shape, turning into my father's icy blue ones. I awoke remembering that he was dead.

The second thing I remembered was that my hair was short.

Third, that I was in Lexan's bed. I moved and found us wrapped in each other, his arms tight around me; it was almost difficult to move away from him, I was bound so snugly. I pulled back, looking down at his face.

He looked incredibly at peace. I wondered if he had slept at all since I had been gone; the drawings on the wall suggested probably not. There were dark circles under his eyes, but his lips were smiling. I touched them, remembering the feel of them against mine. I let him sleep, lying back down. My hair felt incredibly light, strange that it wasn't a huge tangle of knots as I slept. I could still run my fingers through it.

I lay back down on his chest, and his arms rewound against my back, his face pressing into my neck. I sighed in contentment, feeling the safety I had been aching for since I had been dragged out of mine and Alex's dorm room. I wondered if they would still have us room together, or if they would realize that it wasn't a good idea. I would tell Alberta that I couldn't guarantee the other girl's safety if I had to share a dorm with her still. I could picture the older guardian woman's face, her surprise and then resignation as she realized I meant what I said. And that she couldn't punish me, because who wouldn't act out when their parents died?

Both of my parents were dead, I realized again. It was a strange feeling, to imagine that they were no longer out in the world as they had been. Was there anything left of our house? What about the remains? Would there be funerals?

I couldn't believe that I hadn't even asked about funerals. For my own parents.

I was surprised when hot tears streamed down my cheeks, crossing my nose into Lexan's shirt. He was still sleeping soundly, unaware of my pain. That was good. I didn't want him to hurt the way I did.

—

The next time I woke up, my Lexan was no longer sleeping. I didn't realize this, of course, until after I tried to move. His arms tightened, and then one hand shot up to cup my cheek, worry and fear in his eyes. "My Laynie," he breathed, running his thumb across my lips and touching the newly trimmed ends of my hair. "Are you okay? What happened? I got back from the shower last night, and here you were."

"I'm okay," I breathed, leaning into him. "I'm getting molnijas." That was the easiest way to begin, the only sentence I could say that would convey the meaning I intended it to. He responded the way I'd expected, his arms growing ever tighter, his lips pressing into my hair.

"What happened?" he finally whispered, and I looked up at him, tipping my chin back and kissing him. It was nothing like the fervent, passionate, fear-filled kiss that had occurred before I had been taken away; but it was just as perfect. Lexan and me, soulmates, made for each other. I pulled back and then kissed him again, my eyelashes hitting my cheeks.

I let my head fall back into the pillow that was his arm, sighing into his chest. "They attacked our house while I was asleep," I said, blinking back more tears. "I thought someone spilled something on the stairs. I went to clean it up, and then I smelled that it was blood, and then he was there…" I trailed off, closing my eyes again. "He tried to kill me. I fought him and then remembered that Christian had told me to light Strigoi on fire. So I did, and he fell into the curtains downstairs, and they all kind of lit on fire together, and it started jumping around." I was repeating what I had told the others in the hospital room, but I didn't care. If I wanted to tell anyone in the world what had happened to me, it was Lexan.

"It wanted to take over the whole house, so I had to get my mom out. She was upstairs, and I had to kick in her door, and there was another Strigoi drinking from her. I lit him on fire too and tried to wake her up, to get her to leave with me. She was already g-gone." I started choking on more tears, burying my face in Lexan, and I could hear his heart beating in his chest. I tried to match my breathing to his, but couldn't help the sobs. My mom was dead. I had killed two Strigoi. No weight had really hit me until that moment, wrapped in my Lexan. The boy I'd been calling for since I had collapsed on the sidewalk and seen the cotton candy in the sky.

"They found me and brought Aidan back to heal me," I said. "I don't know what shape I was in. I just remember saying your name over and over. Nobody would bring you to me. Rose asked me if I wanted my molnijas and I said yes. I don't know what's going to happen now. They're dead, Lexan," I said, wiping my runny nose. My heart hurt too much for me to feel embarrassment or shame for my tears. "My parents. They're dead."

"You're safe, Laynie," he told me, his voice against my forehead. "You're safe right here with me, right now. If you don't feel safe here we can leave. If you want to stay here, we can. I'm safe. You're safe. I'm never letting anyone hurt you ever again."

This made the tears worse, and I couldn't help but sob into his chest. It felt like hours passed of us lying like that, safe from harm, but not safe from what had happened to me. They were dead. My parents were dead, and I had killed their murderers. I was a murderer now, too.

"How did you get over it?" I asked Lexan. I was lying facing the wall, and he was spooning me, his lips occasionally pressing against my neck. "When you first killed someone."

"I just had to tell myself that Strigoi aren't someones anymore," he said softly. "They're not the people they used to be. There aren't enough spirit users in the world to save every Strigoi. You're saving way more lives by killing Strigoi than you are taking lives, if you can even be considered to have taken any at all."

I nodded, moving my face away from the wet spot I'd left on the pillow. "I feel like I could have done more."

"You did everything you could. The way it sounds, you almost got yourself killed trying to do more."

"She wouldn't wake up," I choked out, digging my fingers into his arm over my chest. "I begged her to. I told her I loved her and I shook her and did CPR and I tried so hard to wake her up—"

"Laynie," he said, his voice gentle yet firm at the same time. "There wasn't anything you could do, baby. You're lucky to even be alive."

The conversation seemed to continue just like that; Lexan was amazing at straightening out my thoughts. I wasn't sure what day it was, but I was sure we had class. Neither of us went. We just lay together, talking, kissing, holding each other. We didn't eat. We only slept a little bit. I felt far safer awake in his arms than I felt asleep.

—

I didn't know what time it was when the knocks sounded on the door. Paranoid, I clung to Lexan, and he held me tightly, kissing me and then covering me up with the blankets as he moved to answer the call. I kept my eyes closed tightly, tears managing to squeeze their way out of the sides. What if someone had come to take me again? I wouldn't survive it this time. I couldn't do it.

I heard Alberta's voice, soft and soothing. "Laynie has to come with us. It's time for her to get her molnijas."

This surprised me, and I moved the blankets, sitting up. I couldn't even guess what my hair looked like, and I was sure my rumpled jeans and t-shirt had definitely looked better fresh out of my suitcase. Alberta and Kova stood in the doorway of Lexan's dorm, both of their faces unsurprised, expectant. I took a few wobbly steps forward, and Lexan was immediately at my side, his arm around my waist.

"Do you want to go with them?" he asked, and I could suddenly see the pain in his eyes, which mirrored the pain I was feeling. He wanted to take care of me. If Alberta had come to take me away, he would have put up all the fight he had in him. Lexan was mine. Lexan would keep me safe.

"I'll go," I said. "Who will be there?"

"Just us and the tattoo artist," she answered.

"And Lexan," I amended. I took his hand, glancing up at him and then back to Alberta. I didn't leave room for argument.

"Of course," she sighed, taking a step backwards, out of the doorway. "If either of you need some time to get ready, we'll be out here. Five minutes." She smiled at me in an attempt to be reassuring, but it didn't help. Maybe I didn't want the molnijas. I didn't want all eyes on me, I didn't want to experience any more pain.

 _But Lexan will be with you_ , I reminded myself. He closed the door and quickly changed into jeans and a t-shirt to match me, giving me one of his leather jackets. "It's cold out," he said. I nodded, straightening out my too-short hair and then letting Alberta and Kova lead us away.

We went downstairs, crossing the empty grounds toward the guardian building. "What day is it?" I asked blatantly, holding Lexan's hand as we walked. He had been right; it was very cold out. His hand warmed my cold fingers.

"It's Wednesday morning," Alberta said from in front of us. "The students are all in class. We figured you didn't want an audience. It would be wrong of us to force you to do anything uncomfortable right after what happened."

Nobody said anything else, and we walked through the doors into the guardian building, following our escorts into a small room with two stools at one end of it. I wondered if this ceremony would be anything like that of an actual dhampir tattooing, and it didn't seem like it. There were no other guardians in the room besides the dhampir who was going to be tattooing me, and of course Alberta and Kova. The stranger was opening a kit, and I averted my eyes. I had never been a fan of needles.

I took off Lexan's jacket and tied my hair up into a tight bun at the top of my head, which felt much smaller than it usually did. Lexan, Alberta, and Kova all stood in front of the stools, each of their stances serene, serious, watchful; I felt most comfortable with Lexan's perfect green eyes on me, watching to make sure everything was okay. The artist spoke a few words to me, introducing himself and offering words of assurance. It would sting, but it would be over soon. It was only two. Nothing to worry about.

He was pretty much right; the initial sting hurt worse than the dull pain of the rest of the tattoos. When they were over, he was very explicit about the aftercare, and I was careful not to nudge any part of my neck as we walked back to Lexan's room. I thanked Alberta and Kova, and the artist. They each nodded their recognition, the same understanding in all of their eyes. It was probably rare that these tattoos were celebrated. They always meant death.

I spent the rest of the day in Lexan's room with him. Instead of lying down and sleeping, we actually got things done; we tidied up, and Lexan completed some drawings of me. I didn't ask what it had been like without me here. I didn't want to remind him of any kind of pain.

A letter was slipped under Lexan's door near the end of the day, when there were voices in the hall. It was from Alberta, detailing a room reassignment. I was going to be in a single dorm, just like Lexan.

"Now you're going to have to learn to climb up those walls into my room," I said, laughing, and he grinned back at me, reaching forward and touching my lips. His kiss after was very gentle, very sweet. I couldn't imagine what I would have done without him.

I had to go alone to my dorm at first, and it looked just as bare as your usual unoccupied room. Small and quaint, just like Lexan's, except my suitcase was on the floor at the end of my bed. I opened my window when I was upstairs, letting in freezing cold air, and then there was Lexan, climbing in and closing it behind him. We unpacked my clothes. I took a shower. Things were okay.

The next morning, I decided to return to my normal routine. This included running early in the morning with Lexan, and the cold air burned my cheeks and lips and hands. I needed to invest in some gloves.

Lexan left me at my dorm with a kiss, making sure I was safely inside before leaving to go back to his own room. I showered again, the back of my neck tingling and burning and itching. I took care of it as I had been told, wearing a turtleneck to cover the bandage. Hopefully no one would notice.

Breakfast was the reunion of a lifetime, with both my friends and singular enemy; Jeremy and Matt both ran at me, spinning me around in their arms. "Where did you go?" Jeremy demanded as Matt swung me up into the air, kissing both of my cheeks with a grin. "We thought you got kicked out!"

"I got pulled out, actually," I told them, smiling despite my discomfort. It felt like every time I was enjoying myself, my mind brutally reminded me of the Strigoi's eyes, or my mom not waking up. I couldn't escape the memories. "By my dad. I'll tell you guys the story in a way less public setting."

"Sounds good," Jeremy replied, sitting down at the breakfast table while I went off on my own to the feeders. Lexan looked worried, but I made him stay where he was. I didn't want to seem like I needed to be taken care of. I was still the same badass Laynie I'd always been, just with some new ink.

I passed Alex on my way to the feeders, and she did a double take. I met her eyes, unable to hide my pain from her. She stood still in her tracks, watching after me. I heard her say my name, but ignored it.

My first classes went about the same as usual, except with some extra lingering eyes. From what I could tell, the rumors ranged from my getting pregnant and leaving the Academy, to getting murdered by Alex. The singular rumor that was true, however, was that Lexan and I were together. We had proven that when he had walked me to class, kissing me before heading toward his own.

I didn't know if Jeremy knew yet.

"Hey, Laynie," someone said to me as I walked toward the cafeteria after fourth period, and I turned to see the infamous Lars Zeklos, smirking as he stalked toward me. "Good to see you back and still hot as hell. No baby bump yet, I see."

I rolled my eyes and kept walking, but he put his hand on my shoulder, about to turn me around. I slung my elbow backwards into his stomach and kneed his chin as he doubled over, making him fall to the ground. I singed the edges of his annoyingly perfect hair for good measure.

"Leave me the fuck alone, Zeklos," I growled, and then continued toward the lunchroom. Eyes followed me from every angle, but I ignored them.

Jeremy, Matt, and Lexan were all already at our table at lunch, and I sat with them, sighing. "I just beat up Lars," I informed them, stealing a fry from Jeremy's tray.

"You did what?" Jeremy asked, beginning to laugh, and I felt Lexan's worried gaze on me.

"He touched me," I said, shrugging. "I'm not in the mood to deal with people's shit today."

"Speaking of shit, you should see Alex," Matt said. "I passed her this morning, all crying and everything. Has she talked to you?"

"No, but I'm sure she feels guilty as hell," I told them. I glanced around, making sure there was enough noise around us to tell my friends what had happened. "She got me pulled out," I began, telling them in brief detail what had happened the past few days. Their eyes grew wider and wider, and soon they were demanding me to remove the bandage, begging to see the molnijas.

"Keep your mouths shut," I ordered, feeling Lexan shift protectively into my side. "People are going to find out eventually, I'm sure, but I'd rather it not be from you guys."

"Oh, of course," Matt said as the bell rang, holding his hand to his heart. "You have my word."

"And mine," piped in Jeremy, smirking. I rolled my eyes, unable to keep from smiling at them. I had missed Lexan more than anything, but I had definitely missed my friends, too.

On the way to class, Matt snatched Lexan's backpack off his shoulder and took off, bolting toward the gym. He laughed and ran after him, and that left me and Jeremy, rolling our eyes at them and smiling.

I didn't realize I should be worried about it until he spoke. "So you and Lexan really are together now?"

"Yeah," I told him. I didn't know what to say, how to apologize. "He really helped me through everything when I came back. I'm sorry." Why was I saying sorry, anyway? Lexan made me happier than anyone in the world. I didn't owe Jeremy anything.

"Yeah, yeah," he scoffed, his only reply. I rolled my eyes yet again, annoyed all of a sudden. What, did he think he was entitled to me? Or that he was somehow better for me than Lexan?

We entered class together, Lexan snatching my hand out of the air and planting a kiss on it, and I grinned, kissing his hand back. We separated to the locker rooms and then sat together on mats on the floor, rather than getting right to practicing. Alberta stood in the front of the room, waiting for us to quiet down and listen.

"So, before we start, I have some news," she began, and I was almost worried she was going to spill my secrets. I glanced over at Lexan, who looked equally confused. He was tense, ready to jump up if need be.

"I don't know how many of you have heard of the Saints' Games," she stated, looking around the room at all of us gathered on the mats. "But they have been out of use for many years. Several academies wanted to bring them back this year, and we will be participating. Can anyone tell me what they are?"

We all kept looking around, none of us having any clue what she was talking about. There was a glint of excitement in her eyes, her smile. "They are like the Olympics," she said. "There are both Moroi and dhampir categories. This will be the first time we've competed in them with integrated curriculum, however, so those lines might get a bit hazy.

"We will be holding try-outs for the following teams: Fire Specialists, Earth Specialists, Water Specialists, and Air Specialists; Defense and Fighting, Offense and Attacking, and also several different associated sports such as Track and Field. The Games will take place right before Thanksgiving break, so we have just under a month to prepare for them.

"Also, our Academy is lucky enough to be the one hosting the Games."

This brought on a round of cheering from the whole room, and I looked at Lexan, grinning widely. While I had never heard of the Saints' Games, I was sure as shit going to be great in all the categories I qualified for. I would definitely be trying out for Fire Specialists, as well as many of the dhampir ones, too. A student across the room raised his hand, and Alberta called on him.

"How many Academies are coming here?"

"Only four others," she said. "I compared them to the Olympics very loosely. Like I said, this is the first year we're trying them out here. We can't make it too big while we're still testing them."

A couple other students asked questions, and then I was the one to raise my hand.

"Can Moroi try out for dhampir categories?"

"Of course," Alberta said, smiling, and my surrounding friends whooped. I imagined the four of us on a team, and grinned.

"Try-outs will begin tomorrow after classes," she said. "So you don't have much time to get practicing. The lists of teams are posted on the back of the gym doors and in the cafeteria. Good luck to you all. Now, get to work."


	15. Svetac Katarina

Immediately, the whole school was talking about the Games. There wasn't a single dhampir who wasn't planning on competing, my friends especially. Speculation buzzed through the next four classes from everyone, wondering which schools we were competing against. The most popular suggestions were the European academies, which probably weren't far off. Another academy high up on the prospective list was St. Basil's, the academy Dimitri Belikov had attended. If his skills were any kind of representation of what we would be up against, we all had to do some serious training.

By the time eighth period let out, crowds of students flooded the grounds, every single conversation a discussion of which teams to try out for and who should or shouldn't compete. I heard mine and Lexan's names a lot, but most of it was negativity. I was trying to get used to the extra eyes on me, but I was nauseous walking next to Lexan, resisting the urge to kneel on the sidewalk and dry heave into the grass.

"It'll be okay, Laynie love," he told me, the comforting tone of his voice doing little to ease my nerves. It was bad enough that I had all of this attention on me from my brief disappearance. What would happen when four other schools' worth of teams showed up? Would my reputation fade away due to the new interests or be amplified?

"I want to compete," I said slowly, sighing. The initial announcement had been exciting, but my anxiety was attempting to get the best of me. "But I also don't. I don't need extra attention. And what happens in the competition when people see my neck?" I lowered my voice, meeting Lexan's safe green eyes with worry in my own. "I can't fight in a turtleneck. Everyone will know I have molnijas."

"And that will just show them how much more badass you are," he insisted. "I know killing is nothing to be proud of. I wasn't even offered molnijas because of the circumstances, but if I had been, I don't even know that I would want them. But I promise you, you're the strongest fighter in the school. Out of all the fire users I've seen, I'm sure you're the best out of all of them. If this really were the Olympics, you'd have all the gold." He grinned at me, and I laughed despite myself, taking his hand.

"It's just all the attention, is all," I whispered after a few seconds, an ache in my stomach forming at the thought of Alex's first few complaints about the spotlight being on us. It had ultimately ended our friendship. "You gunna leave me when all eyes are on us twenty-four-seven?"

"They already are, gorgeous," he pointed out. "I don't mind showing you off." He tapped the bottom of my chin with his free hand, and I let out another sigh, my teeth gritted.

"Well, anyway, we have to practice," I said, changing the subject. I turned toward the girls' dorms. "I'm going to change and meet you at the track."

"Got it, your highness," he announced, bowing to me as I began to back away, and I laughed, rolling my eyes and setting off at a jog back to my room.

—

I hadn't ever been one to be afraid of the dark. Only my eyes in the mirror, my father. The darkness was no cover of protection, nor was it a hiding place for monsters. He could get me whether the lights were on or not.

But I found myself afraid as I cracked open the door of my room, feeling along the wall for the switch without allowing the door to open more than a couple inches. I clicked the light on and then let the door swing open, closing it behind me with an uncomfortable itch on the back of my neck that wasn't caused by the tattoos. I didn't like this. I wasn't afraid of anything except one person. Now that he was gone, had a dam been broken? Would being alone turn into a burden?

I dismissed the worries, writing them off to what had happened to me the past couple days, and quickly changed into clean workout clothes, leaving my hair down to cover the bandage. Lexan was waiting for me at the track as I had suggested, wearing his own new pair of basketball shorts and a different t-shirt, and I stopped in front of him upon my arrival, looking him up and down.

"What does that say?" I asked, pointing at the curly Bosnian letters embossing his chest.

" _Košarkaški_ ," he said, snatching my fingers out of the air. I had almost never heard him speak Bosnian before, his voice totally lacking any kind of accent, and my brows shot up before I had a chance to stop them. "It means basketball."

"You were on a basketball team?"

"At my school, yes. _Svetac Katarina_. Saint Catherine's."

"Who's she?"

"Huge figure in Bosnian history. Look her up." He grinned and started stretching, and I mimicked him, doing jumping jacks with my thoughts racing. Alberta had said there would be track and field. I had the track part covered, but field? Didn't you have to throw a javelin or something? Maybe there would be a basketball tryout for Lexan. I doubted it, but it would have been interesting to watch him play. He was six-four, after all.

For the second running session of the day, it went rather well. After running, Lexan and I began sparring in the quad, and we definitely weren't the only ones. The track began to fill up before we were even off of it, and there were dozens of pairs of students practicing defensive and offensive techniques around us until the sun began coming up. I was confident that Lexan and I were the top students in the school when it came to fighting, and that we made each other better, but I was still concerned about the games. I couldn't fight students from Russia or Australia with my hair down. How common was it for junior novices to have molnijas, let alone a junior Moroi? I wasn't in the mood for the attention. I wanted to run away from it all, from everything, and bring Lexan with me.

He was the one to climb up to my window that night, and he was nearly panting as he let himself fall to the floor from the windowsill, sighing deeply and closing his eyes. His sketchbook was tucked under his arm. "You make climbing up these walls look so easy."

"It's easier with both hands," I replied, kneeling on the floor next to him and taking his sketchbook. I tipped it open, the glossy gold letters bringing the corners of my lips up. "Finally, you walked into my gin joint."

He sat up and looked around, confused. "Where's all the gin?"

I laughed, tossing the sketchbook up onto the bed and crawling onto his lap. His lips met mine quickly, his hand tangling in the back of my hair and pulling me closer to him, and I felt like everything around me disappeared: all the pain, the fear, the molnijas. They didn't matter when I was with Lexan. He would keep me safe. He would take care of me when I was having trouble taking care of myself.

—

Lexan and I made every team we tried out for, which included every dhampir category for both of us and the fire specialist team for me. Jeremy and Matt made a lot of the teams, too, but I couldn't help but feel guilty when their names weren't on every list with mine and Lexan's. They didn't let it bother them, tossing each other around on the way to class and in the gym as usual.

The competing schools were announced the next Thursday, exactly three weeks before Thanksgiving and two weeks before the games. The competitions were supposed to start on a Thursday and extend into the next Monday, giving only five days for all of the competing categories. Nobody knew much about what teams were splitting up which ways and the organization of any of it, really. All we knew were what they were now teaching us in our classes, which was advanced curriculum for each team. My dhampir classes turned into all action, no more of the sitting around and listening to instructors; I was no longer the only student covered in bruises from head to toe. After the first day of wearing the bandage, I was allowed to remove it and let the marks breathe, but I kept my hair down. I didn't hear any new gossip about me, so I assumed they were hidden enough for now.

We were all sitting in the cafeteria at lunch when Alberta began speaking in a megaphone, her voice carrying far louder than necessary for those of us with Moroi hearing. "I am here to announce who will be competing against us at the Saints' Games, which I know each and every one of you has been working incredibly hard for," she began, holding up a piece of paper in her free hand. "Our first competitor will be the new Tatiana's Academy in Canada," she said. We all looked around at each other, none of us having expected that. Tatiana's Academy had been founded right after Vasilisa had taken office, having been named after her predecessor, Queen Tatiana Ivashkov. The students had been pooled from nearby academies. I wondered if they would be difficult to compete against. "Our second competitor will be St. Gregory's in England. Thirdly, St. Basil's in Russia, previously home to the famous Dimitri Belikov." There was care and respect in Alberta's voice when she spoke of Dimitri, and I wondered briefly what her voice sounded like when she spoke of me to other people. "Last but not least, the school of St. Catherine, in Bosnia."

There were "ooh"s and "aah"s from all over the room, and I immediately looked at my Lexan, seeing a fear I was not very familiar with in his face. I knew without a doubt that that was the school he had escaped from when he was fifteen in order to find his mother, a forced Strigoi. How would that affect him, all of those students coming here? Would he know many of them? Did he have history with any of them? How many of them knew what exactly he had been through?

My eyes weren't the only ones on Lexan, and he noticed, shifting in his seat with more negative emotions I wasn't used to seeing on his face. I squeezed his leg comfortingly under the table, and he took my hand in his, bringing it to his lips and kissing it. The callous on his ring finger from all the drawing stood out in the fluorescent lights. His eyes, on the other hand, appeared to dim.

"Let's get out of here," I told him, taking his hand as we left the cafeteria and turning in the opposite direction of our next classes. "Go hide in one of our dorms, sit in the church, walk in the woods."

"Why?" he asked, his usual smirk missing from his lips entirely. "We have class."

"I don't care that we have class, I have to protect you," I told him, yanking on his arm again. I hadn't really intended to phrase it that way, but I still meant every word. "Let's go."

"Yes, ma'am," he finally replied, and I hoped that was a little bit of excitement flashing in his eyes. We walked a normal pace until were off the main sidewalks, and then began a sprint towards the treeline, disappearing into it swiftly and then slowing back to a walk once we were far enough away from the hum of student voices. I plopped onto the ground at the base of a tree, and Lexan sat at one directly next to it, so our legs were only a couple feet apart.

"This isn't a good hiding place," he told me after a brief silence, the only sounds the chirping of birds and our quiet breaths. "They're going to come find us."

"We'll just tell them I was having a mental breakdown or something," I suggested, laughing but then cutting off when I didn't hear his laugh chime in. "Are you okay?" I asked him, wanting to compare his eye color to the leaves above us, but finding his gaze locked on a tree in the opposite direction.

"Not particularly," he replied, reaching out and taking my hand still without looking at me. "I don't know who they will bring here. I didn't want to ever see those people again. Any of them." He put his face in his free hand, sighing into it.

"You can just pretend they don't exist," I said slowly, trying to think of a way to comfort him. I didn't like this. Lexan was so positive, so snarky and sarcastic and alive, and now he was as still as the tree trunk against his back. "We can leave. We don't have to compete in the games. We can beat each other up and hang out in the hospital for a few weeks."

"Laynie," he sighed, finally letting a tiny laugh escape his lips. "We're competing. We have to kick everyone else's asses, not each other's."

"Who are you specifically afraid of seeing?" I asked, hoping we could talk out the worries bouncing around inside his head. "Your old friends? A girl?"

"Any one of them," he admitted, swallowing hard. "They all know what happened to me, all the details. They'll tell people here about my mom."

"We don't care what people think," I whispered.

"I don't care what any of these American people think," he corrected. "I wasn't in this mindset yet when I was still in school. It'll all come rushing back. Everything." He still hadn't taken his face out of his hand, and I moved over to him, uncaring about whatever dirt would get on my pants.

"We can leave," I began, and his answering groan insisted he didn't believe we could or should. "I still have all of my parents' money. We can go hide out somewhere. If you want to come back after the games, we can. If not, well." I shrugged, tightening my hold on his hand and rubbing my finger across the top of his smooth nail. "We'll figure it out."

"We can't run away from all of our problems, Laynie love." He finally looked at me, and his eyes were bloodshot, glassy. I leapt onto his lap, holding him as tightly as I could, my arms scraping against the bark of the tree.

"I'm not letting this happen. I have to keep you safe."

"We'll just have to face it all," he said, almost too quietly for me to hear, even with my Moroi ear pressed against him. Neither of us said anything for a while, and then his arms shifted, yanking his backpack toward him. He pulled his sketchbook out, opening it to one of the last pages. I moved backward so I could sit in front of him, both of our legs criss-crossed.

"This is my mom," he said, turning the book to face me. She was beautiful, of course; this sketch, like all of the others, was simply in black ink, so I couldn't tell what color her hair or eyes were. She was tall, thin like a Moroi; her hair was long and stick-straight, a cowlick on her hairline flipping it all to one side. Her lips were full, just like his. She had his nose, his long lashes. For a moment, I was grateful the eyes weren't colored in. I didn't want to know if this was her as a Strigoi or not.

"She looks like you," I replied after a moment, looking up to see he was staring at me. It was rare to see this much confusion in his eyes, this amount of worry. "You're both beautiful."

"Nowhere near as beautiful as you, Laynie," he quipped, trying to smirk, but it didn't reach his eyes. I took the sketchbook from him and climbed back up onto his lap, holding him tightly.

"It'll be okay. You have me. I'm the biggest piece of gossip in the whole school right now. Nobody will even think about your problems."

He chuckled into my neck, and I tightened my arms. "Thank you."

"Anytime."


	16. Arrivals

The day the schools arrived was like moving day, but worse.

They came mostly in public buses, since they had all had to fly here from their academies; the first arrivals were the students from Tatiana's, having been the closest academy by far. They all seemed friendly enough. Since there were a lot of vacant buildings at 's, each school was assigned a building. St. Basil's was allegedly staying in the lower campus, with all the middle school-aged and lower students, but that was all speculation still.

The second school was St. Basil's. They flooded into the grounds, the cafeteria, the dorms, the gyms; classes had been postponed for the week, so anyone was basically practicing anywhere. They had come from Russia, of course, and most of them spoke pretty standard English. Lexan had always had perfect understanding of the English language, but I had written that off to his parents having been from the States. These students weren't as talented as he was.

Last, but of course not least, came the students from St. Catherine's. Lexan's attitude changed immediately when the bus rumbled through the front gates; he stopped in the middle of running and his head turned sharply toward the sound. "Let's go inside, Laynie," he suggested quickly, and I immediately complied, snatching our backpacks full of water bottles and changes of clothes and starting to jog toward his dorm room. We made it inside just as the students themselves came climbing out of the bus.

Each of the schools had had a distinct look about them. The St. Basil's students were quiet, standing very tall with brusque expressions that reminded me of my father's. Tatiana's students were friendly, if not a little quiet as well. These students were about the same as St. Basil's, Lexan and I observed from his dorm window, except their eyes swept the faces in front of them, calculating, cold, uninterested. I looked at him just out of comparison, and the only emotion in his eyes was worry. These people were like my father. Lexan was the opposite.

"Do you know any of them?" I asked him quietly, taking his hand tightly. He squeezed back, shrugging.

"None of them are from my grade. I think they were a year or so below me or above me. Maybe that was intentional." He gritted his teeth, and I reached for the blind cord, ready to drop a cover over his worries as best as I could. "Wait," he said suddenly, his fingers covering mine on the cord. "Them. I know them."

I glanced to where he was referring, seeing several boys and two girls walking together in a line. They were very obviously friends, and I tried to imagine Lexan in the group with them, his leafy eyes staring hard ahead of him in disregard. Perhaps with his arm around one of the shockingly beautiful girls. My stomach twisted.

"Who are they?"

"That's Ado," he said, his finger pressing against the glass. "He was my friend. That's Denis. Milan. Danijela. And that's…" He dropped his hand back to his side, sinking back away from the window. "Stefiҫa."

"Stefi-shka," I mimicked, trying to figure out which of the girls he was talking about. He took my finger and guided it to her against the glass, and the twist in my stomach turned into the nausea I felt when Alberta or Kova mentioned my parents or my molnijas. She was tall, definitely Moroi; her hair was nearly pure white, so blond that it shone even in the dimness of the lights along the sidewalk. Her eyes were dark, the polar opposite of her hair. Her skin was white, so white. She reminded me of the Strigoi I had fought in my parents' house. I quickly turned away, dropping the blinds before Lexan could stop me.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his worry turning to concern.

"She…" I trailed off, closing my eyes and trying to block out the memories that constantly came flooding back. "She's so pale. Too pale."

"I know," he replied, and I watched his Adam's apple bob in his throat as he swallowed. "We were close."

"How close?"

"Together." He said it without hesitation, as I would have expected; Lexan and I had no secrets. Even so, the nausea grew in force, and I sat back against the side of his bed, closing my eyes again and breathing through my nose. It was how my mother had always encouraged me not to puke when I had been hit too hard in the stomach. _Through your nose and out your mouth, Laynie,_ I could hear her whisper. The memories didn't help, and I leapt off the ground, sprinting down the hall to the bathroom. Eyes followed me, wondering what the hell a female Moroi was doing in a dhampir boys' dorm, but I disregarded them. _Bathroom. I need a bathroom._

"Laynie!" a voice called from behind me, but it wasn't my Lexan's; and then there his voice was, telling the person to leave me be, let me go. I burst into the bathroom and flew into a stall, nearly shattering my kneecaps as I collapsed to the tile and vomited into the toilet. Tears flooded my cheeks. My fingers were shaking. _Through your nose and out your mouth, Laynie._

And then warm hands were in my hair, holding it back, and several gasps sounded behind me. The molnijas. Who was seeing them?

I didn't have the bravery to turn around and look. I sat in front of the toilet and dry heaved for several minutes after my stomach was empty, my head and heart pounding. Finally, it was over. I rolled up a wad of toilet paper and wiped off my tears first, then my mouth. I tried to stumble to my feet, and he held me, helping walk me to the sink and turning on the faucet. The bathroom was empty. Apparently the interest had already disappeared. Or the news was spreading.

"Are you okay? Sick?" Lexan asked me, helping hold me steady while I splashed water into my mouth and onto my face.

"Not sick," was my brief reply. I didn't look at myself in the mirror, turning to walk to the paper towel dispenser. I didn't want to see the eyes. I would puke again.

After I threw the paper towel away, I buried my face in his chest, his familiar scent comforting me only in the slightest. The tears hadn't stopped since I had been sprinting down the hall, and I regretted always crying into Lexan's nice shirts. None of them had been ruined yet, though.

"Was it her?"

"She's so pale," I groaned, my chin quivering. The nausea returned, but I knew there was nothing left to come up. "Her skin…"

"I understand," he replied, and I could just barely feel him shaking under my arms. Neither of us were immune to it. We had both seen Strigoi. We both knew.

"Did you love her?" I asked after a brief silence, and he shook his head.

"I was fifteen when I left, Laynie," he explained. "We must have dated for a couple weeks, at most."

"She is beautiful," I pointed out, sighing and leaning back to meet his eyes. They were wrinkled, scared; I reached up and smoothed out the worries in his forehead, brushing his hair back. "Not as beautiful as you, though."

"And you're more beautiful than I am, by a long shot," he replied, trying to smirk. It had been weeks since I had seen that smirk in full force, with full honesty; this was as good as it was going to get. "So I guess you win."

"Just like we're going to win the Games," I told him, sniffling and then blinking away any more tears. I turned and met my father's eyes in the mirror, swallowing hard. "I fought real Strigoi. I can fight her."

"She's not a Strigoi, Laynie. Just privileged. She doesn't ever need to see the sun."

"Privilege makes you weak."

He hooked my chin with his thumb and broke my gaze with the icy blue I was so terrified of, making me meet instead a warm, comforting emerald. "We'll be okay, Laynie. Both of us."

—

"What the hell happened to you?" came Jeremy's shout as we exited the bathroom; he was waiting outside the door with Matt, glaring at Lexan. "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing," I said, trying to keep the territorial note out of my voice. "Don't yell at him. I'm sick and being nervous about the Games isn't helping."

"I don't buy that for a fucking second," Jeremy growled, and I felt Lexan tense up from several inches away from me. "Is he why you always look so scared, Laynie?"

"What?!" I demanded, stepping forward without meaning to so I was nearly nose-to-nose with the shouting boy. "Are you kidding me?"

"Wait," he said, lowering his voice significantly. "Are you pregnant?"

I laughed out loud, resisting the urge to shove Jeremy out of my way. "Fuck you."

"Really, Laynie?" he whispered, and I could nearly watch his heart breaking through his eyes. "You're not pregnant, are you?"

"Why, would that ruin your already nonexistent chances with me?" I snapped, knowing my words had been sharp and immediately regretting them. "I'm not pregnant, Jeremy. I'm just fucked up."

"Laynie," Lexan urged me quietly, tugging on my arm. If the puking spectacle hadn't attracted eyes, surely this would. "We gotta get out of here."

I glanced at Lexan and then back to Jeremy's watery puppy dog eyes, turning and stalking away from all of them. I passed Lexan's dorm and burst into the door to the staircase, letting it slam behind me with no knowledge of whether I had been followed before I screamed. It was one of those painful, screeching, pain-releasing screams, and I slammed my fists against the wall, leaning my sweaty forehead against it after I had finished. Hands were in my hair again, a forehead resting on the back of my shoulder.

"I hate this place, Lexan," I groaned, even more angry that I was crying for simply no reason. "How could Jeremy ask me that? And everyone saw the molnijas, everyone knows, they're going to say that my parents turned Strigoi. They're going to say that's who the molnijas are."

"They can think what they want," he replied, his voice muffled in my sweater. "They can think that you're pregnant or that your whole family is Strigoi or that you're secretly in love with Alberta. It doesn't matter. You are who you are. You're the Laynie I love."

A door creaked open on the first floor into the staircase, and Lexan and I straightened out to normal standing positions, moving out of the way for whoever our guest was. I smelled something sharp, floral; the nonsensical chatter of a language I didn't understand made its way to my ears, and I stopped breathing.

"Enver!" came a shrill female voice, and I ducked in front of him defensively. Her white skin wasn't as Strigoi-like this close. None of the pastiness, the translucent quality. My fear for her dissipated entirely. In its place came anger. Boiling hot.

"They said this was your building," she said, not letting my behavior silence her. Her accent was very thick, reminiscent of a Russian one. I didn't know what Lexan's face looked like behind me. "It is so good to see you. Ado is outside. I was going to let him know if we had the right information before we brought everyone up."

"Stefi," he said sharply, and I refused to break my gaze with her to see the emotion behind his voice. "Why did you come find me?"

A smile lit up her white cheeks, her fangs nearly biting into her full bottom lip. "Because I missed you, my love."


	17. Mayhem

"Let's further discuss why you did what you did."

My gaze was glued to the carpet under my tennis shoes, laced up tight for practicing with Lexan immediately after this session. Required counseling in order to be eligible to compete in the Games. Alberta was basically telling me to fix my crazy, or I didn't get the privileges that the sane students got.

"Why I kicked her ass?" I asked my counselor, a young Moroi woman who could have been Dr. Olendzki's sister. "Because she called Lexan her love."

"Explain what you mean by 'kicked her ass,'" the woman said. I couldn't remember her name. I didn't really care.

I ran my fingers over the scrapes on my knuckles, remembering the crunch of her bones against them, Lexan's fingers like vices on my arms, pulling me back. He had burns on his hands. I didn't remember burning him. I hadn't wanted to.

"I fought her in the staircase and then threw her down the stairs," I explained slowly. "You saw the images. You know what happened."

"I want you to talk about it."

"I punched her in the face and the stomach and the jaw and I kicked her and—"

"Eleyn." The counselor was attempting to force some amount of calm into her voice, but I could tell she was getting aggravated.

"I don't know what you want me to say," I growled. "I love Lexan. He's my boyfriend. She is his ex-girlfriend from two years ago. Before he even became the person he is today. She crossed a line. I lost control. I'm _crazy_." I exaggerated the last word, finally looking up at her. She was tapping her pen against the corner of her notepad, and it reminded me of Lexan's sketchbook. "Rose Hathaway had required counseling too, though, and look where she is."

"Rose went through a lot while she was at this school."

"We both killed Strigoi. We both watched people die. I don't know how we're that much different. Is it because I'm not best friends with a princess?"

"No, Eleyn. I'm only trying to help you, you know."

"Allow me to help myself, then," I groaned. "I know what I did was wrong and I won't do it again. Not until we're in the Games, at least."

"We're not positive we're going to let you compete against the St. Catherine's students yet."

"That's not fair," I barked, nearly jumping out of my seat. "I'm here, aren't I? If you don't let me compete against Bosnia, then I can't participate in half of the matches. Doesn't anyone here want our school to win?"

"You don't think we could win without you?"

"I think it would be a lot harder. Although, we do have Lexan."

"Tell me this, Eleyn." I hated the way she said my full name. It reminded me of my parents. "Do you truly feel that you won't attempt to hurt Miss Stefiҫa again?"

"Yes. Until the Games."

"The Games' purpose isn't to hurt the other schools."

"I get that. But I mean, let's be real. People are going to get hurt." I shrugged. There was a reason all the novices got injured at least once every couple of months. What we did was meant to teach us real world skills. How were we going to learn without actually hurting each other?

The counselor sighed, writing things down on her notepad. "Our time is up, Eleyn. I'll see you next session."

"See ya." I hopped out of my seat, grabbed my backpack, and ran toward the door, bursting out into the fresh air. It was late November, and I felt like I could taste the oncoming snow. It had only snowed a couple times, and never enough to stick. I wondered if it would snow during the Games.

Lexan was waiting for me on a bench at the next building, and he jumped up when I came near, grinning. "How was therapy? Feel less crazy?"

"No, just a little pissed," I said, and he laughed, pulling me to him. For some reason, his spirits had lifted a little since the schools' arrivals and what had happened in the stairwell. Maybe he wasn't able to sit around and worry about it anymore.

"Have you seen Stefi?" he asked, and I glared at him. "Stefiҫa," he corrected. "My bad. Just what I'm used to."

"I understand," I sighed. "I don't mean to be a bitch to you."

"I know. It's just in your blood."

I laughed and elbowed him in the ribs, holding his gloved hand as we walked. "No, I haven't seen her. What does she look like?"

"Two black eyes. I could be wrong, but her nose looks a little crooked."

"I have not one shred of guilt."

"I know you don't," he said, chuckling. "All because of two little words."

"I'm sure she knows her boundaries now," I pointed out. "She won't call you that again."

"You're probably right," he agreed, laughing, and I squeezed his hand without thinking, immediately letting go when he winced.

"Sorry," he said, reaching out for me again, but I shook my head.

"I can't believe I did that to you."

"I'm surprised you even remember what happened, you were so on fire. It's not your fault. I should have known better." He shrugged, but I stopped him in his tracks, taking his wrist and yanking off his glove. The burns hadn't blistered, but they were a nasty purple color. "Could be worse."

"Maybe Aidan will come to the Games," I suggested. "He can heal you."

"That guy?" he scoffed, taking his glove from me and sliding it back on. "I'd rather eat dirt."

"What's wrong with Aidan?"

"He's in love with you, that's what's wrong," he stated, starting to walk again. "I don't like the way he looks at you. He and Stefi can go run off together, be homewreckers elsewhere."

"Homewreckers?" I repeated, rolling my eyes. "You're funny. I know Aidan's supposed to be super charismatic and stuff because of the spirit thing. Maybe that's it." I remembered him helping me in the hospital after what had happened to my parents, swallowing a knot in my throat. I had a feeling Lexan was right, but I felt he would worry less if I didn't admit it outright.

"Homewreckers," he confirmed, stopping in front of our dorm. "Are we practicing upstairs or are we running?"

"I thought we were running."

"You got it, dude." He turned toward the track, taking my hand again, and I wasn't surprised when we had company upon our arrival. I was surprised, however, at the response of our company.

They were all from St. Catherine's, and they seemed to know who we were, immediately gathering their things and leaving the track with hushed voices and hasty stares. I assumed it was because we were St. Vlad's students, and they didn't want us stealing any trade secrets; however, Lexan picked up some different information from the language they were speaking as they walked away.

"They know what you did to Stefiҫa," he whispered. If any one of them were Moroi, we would have to be careful with their proximity and our volume. "And who I am. They're afraid."

"Damn right," I said, grinning and shucking my jacket so I was only wearing a loose t-shirt and thin yoga pants. I hated sweating while I was exercising, and wearing little clothing in cold weather seemed to help.

Lexan laughed, twirling my ponytail around in his fingers. "I love you."

"Ditto."

"You're showing your molnijas," he questioned innocently, but I could see that he was surprised.

"I'm figuring maybe it'll give St. Vlad's an edge," I joked, and he grinned, pulling me to him by my ponytail and kissing me.

"They've already got an edge. You," he replied against my lips.

"Damn right," I repeated, and his laugh echoed around the track, my heart soaring in response.

—

The Wednesday before the Games, everyone was on edge. Students from opposing schools, while they had been getting along rather well previously, refused to speak to each other. Practicing had become a dorm activity, presumably for fear that the other teams would steal our strategies. It was mayhem.

Lexan and I stayed in his dorm, mostly. We emerged for meals only.

"I guess I should have assumed there would be like, four times the guardians," I noted as Lexan and I entered the cafeteria doors, the amount of students within almost suffocating. It was sensory overload, especially for a Moroi. Lights, sounds, smells. And the worst of it all, the St. Catherine's students.

I hadn't seen Stefi's face since I had allegedly given her two black eyes. She and her crew had been avoiding Lexan and me since the occurrence, and I was grateful for that. If I let myself off the deep end another time before the Games, I would almost definitely not be allowed to compete.

Another face I hadn't seen, except for very briefly, was Jeremy's. I felt a small amount of guilt for the way I'd spoken to him in Lexan's dorm hallway. I hadn't meant to be so cruel. But I hadn't forgiven him, either. Some days, it felt like my friends were all dropping like flies.

"They have to keep all these Moroi safe," Lexan pointed out. Instead of the usual miniscule guardian supervision, there was an insane amount; all black-clad, all against the wall, their eyes scanning every movement for a threat. I respected the guardians, unlike my father. However, I would not want to ever do their job.

"I don't know about everyone else, but this makes me feel less safe," I said as we waited in line; with all these hundreds of new people crowding around campus, it made us an ideal location for a Strigoi attack. Hence the high guardian numbers, of course. But then again, didn't Strigoi like dhampirs, too?

"How could you ever feel unsafe with me around?" he asked, sliding his arm around my waist and pulling me to him. I had long since become unashamed of PDA with Lexan; everyone and their mother knew about us being together. After struggling for my life against two Strigoi and losing my parents in one fell swoop, the little things like high school gossip mattered less to me.

"Because I can kick your ass," I replied, and he snatched me in a headlock with his free arm, but instead of facing me outward he had our stomachs pressed together and our lips inches apart.

"Say that to my face, Ozera."

"Anytime, Dashkov."

"Did you see that?" someone hissed from several feet away from us, and I immediately glanced over, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. I didn't quite know for sure how I knew they were talking about me, but my inference had been right; several Moroi girls from Tatiana's were averting their eyes from where Lexan and I stood, lowering their voices. Assuming they were going to start a rumor that Lexan was abusive, I began to turn away, until someone else spoke.

"Yeah, we saw the molnijas. We've all seen them."

I tensed as a boy whose thick Bosnian accent we had just heard strolled up to the Moroi girls, and judging by Lexan's immediate step in front of me, this wasn't a stranger. "Fuck off, Ado."

"So Eleyn, did your parents try to get you to turn Strigoi too and that's why you killed them? Or was it more like you just did it for fun?"

"My parents weren't Strigoi," I growled without thinking, resisting the urge to push Lexan out of the way and lunge for Ado. _The Games, the Games_. "Strigoi killed them. I killed the Strigoi." That was probably the most I had spoken about what had happened to my family since I'd returned to the academy, and I regretted each word as it came out of my mouth.

"Likely story." The Tatiana girls' eyes were wide, and they were looking back and forth between me and Lexan, waiting for a fight to break out. "I bet you're just waiting for the right moment to follow in their footsteps, just like Christian with his parents, and his crazy fucking aunt. What do you think, Enver? You think she and Christian might make a blood pact and just awaken together?"

Now I was the one holding Lexan back, my hands shackling his wrists. "Not worth it," I murmured to him.

"Or maybe the two of you have the blood pact," Ado continued, a smug smile tipping up the corners of his nearly white lips. All the Bosnian students were the same scary pale; didn't they have sun over there? "It would make sense and all. You've both seen Strigoi. You both probably want to be with your parents."

"We've both killed Strigoi," I snapped. "How many have you killed? Or do you just jerk off with practice dummies still?"

Ado's face darkened into a glare. "Cage your bitch, Enver."

Yikes.


End file.
